Autobiographies; Boys -- Biography; Country life; New England
The meeting-house which our boy remembers was a high, square building,
without a steeple. Within it had a lofty pulpit, with doors underneath
and closets where sacred things were kept, and where the tithing-men
were supposed to imprison bad boys. The pews were square, with seats
facing each other, those on one side low for the children, and all with
hinges, so that they could be raised when the congregation stood up for
prayers and leaned over the backs of the pews, as horses meet each other
across a pasture fence. After prayers these seats used to be slammed
down with a long-continued clatter, which seemed to the boys about
the best part of the exercises. The galleries were very high, and the
singers' seats, where the pretty girls sat, were the most conspicuous
of all. To sit in the gallery away from the family, was a privilege not
often granted to the boy. The tithing-man, who carried a long rod and
kept order in the house, and out-doors at noontime, sat in the gallery,
and visited any boy who whispered or found curious passages in the
Bible and showed them to another boy. It was an awful moment when the
bushy-headed tithing-man approached a boy in sermon-time. The eyes of
the whole congregation were on him, and he could feel the guilt ooze out
of his burning face.
At noon was Sunday-school, and after that, before the afternoon service,
in summer, the boys had a little time to eat their luncheon together
at the watering-trough, where some of the elders were likely to be
gathered, talking very solemnly about cattle; or they went over to
a neighboring barn to see the calves; or they slipped off down the
roadside to a place where they could dig sassafras or the root of the
sweet-flag, roots very fragrant in the mind of many a boy with religious
associations to this day. There was often an odor of sassafras in the
afternoon service. It used to stand in my mind as a substitute for the
Old Testament incense of the Jews. Something in the same way the big
bass-viol in the choir took the place of “David's harp of solemn sound.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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