Phemie Frost's ExperiencesStephens, Ann S. (Ann Sophia)
General
Phemie Frost's Experiences
Stephens, Ann S. (Ann Sophia)
Fiction
By and by the shouts and noises hushed up a little, and there was a
stampede, like a rush of cattle, in the grounds.
"Come," says Dempster, "or we shall get nothing to eat."
"Does that mean dinner?" says E. E., with a hungry look.
"Just that," says Dempster, "so look sharp; for here it is every man for
himself, and the----"
"Dempster!" said I, stepping back with pious horror, "do you know where
you are?"
"Exactly; but I know, too, that unless we look sharp, we shall feel flat
when we get to the dining-hall and find everything swept off."
We took the hint. I lifted the skirt of my alpaca dress gently, between
my thumb and forefinger, just enough to give an idea of the ankle
without revealing it, and went out of the tent, imbued with the spirit
of the place, but humiliated with worldly craving.
Sisters, if the denizens of this Sea Cliff are only half as earnest in
their souls' salvation as they are in replenishing poor, frail human
nature, there will be a glorious harvest of regeneration this holy
season. The way they poured out of the tents, the houses, the long
stoops, and through the bushes was fluttering and noisy as the flight of
ten thousand chickens from a barn-yard. Still the crowd did not break
all at once from the spiritual to the temporal wants of human nature.
They kept on praying and singing in breaks and snatches clear up to the
dining-hall, when the old earthly Evil One got uppermost, and each man
seizing a knife and fork, went at the first dish he saw, and held on to
it with one hand, while he did double express duty with the other.
Sisters, this crowd of sinners sanctified, and to be sanctified, was
made up of about the hungriest mortals that I ever set eyes upon. The
way those safety-seeking souls took care of their bodies was
regenerating, I can tell you. For my part, after seeing every dish swept
away from before me, with Christian fortitude becoming to the place, my
carnal nature rose uppermost, and, seizing upon a plate of summer
squash, I held on to it valiantly, while E. E. snatched a potatoe with
its jacket on, from a flying dish, and Dempster wrestled with one of the
saints for a plate of bread, as Jacob wrestled with the angels; only
this saint was six feet high, wore a hood-brimmed straw hat, and carried
off the plate of bread in his hands, after all.
I greatly fear Cousin Dempster didn't meet this test of a meek and lowly
spirit with the fortitude of a martyr. In fact, I'm afraid he said
something beside "Amen" between his grinding teeth, when that plate
disappeared.
As for E. E. and myself, we got a spoon between us, and dined on the
squash, generously giving up the potato to Dempster, with an admonition
which did not seem to suit him much better than that stone-cold
vegetable.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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