Short stories; United States -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
He reached town on a Monday. Betimes Tuesday morning, inspired outwardly
by the zeal of one just won over from skepticism to the immediate
advisability of following a sapient course, he sought opportunity to
become a member in good standing of the Shining Star Colored Uplift and
Progress League, a simple ceremony and a brief, since it involved merely
the signing of one's name on Dotted Line A of a printed form card and
the paying of a dollar into the hand of Dr. J. Talbott Duvall. On
Tuesday evening the league met in stated session at Hillman's Hall on
Yazoo Street and Jeff was early on hand, visibly enthusiastic and
professedly ready to do all within his power to further the aims and
intents of the organization. As a brand snatched from the burning he was
elevated before the eyes of the assemblage so that all might see him and
mark his mien of newborn fervor, for Doctor Duvall, following his
custom, called to places upon the platform the proselytes enrolled since
the previous meeting, to the end that older members might observe the
physical proof of a steady and a healthful growth.
So there sat Jefferson in the very front row of wooden chairs, where all
might behold him and he might behold all and sundry. About him were his
recent fellow converts. Almost directly behind him was a door giving
upon a side entrance; there was another door serving similar purposes
upon the opposite side of the stage. Beyond him to the left in the
center of the stage were grouped the honorary officers of the league,
flanking and supporting their chief.
Being an honorary officer carried with it, as the title might imply,
honor and prominence second only to that enjoyed by the
president-organizer, but it entailed no great weight of responsibility,
since practically all the actual work of the league had from the very
outset been generously assumed by Doctor Duvall. It was he who cared for
the funds, he who handled disbursements, he who conducted the
proceedings, he who made the principal addresses on meeting nights, he
who between meetings labored without cessation to spread educational
propaganda. That he found time for all these purposeful endeavors and
yet crowded in such frequent opportunity for mingling socially among the
lambs of his flock--notably the ewe lambs--was but evidence,
accumulating daily, of his genius for leadership and direction.
This night the session opened with a prayer--by Doctor Duvall; an
eloquent and a moving prayer indeed, its sonorous periods set off and
adorned with noble big words and quotations in foreign tongues. The
prayer would be followed, it had been announced, by the reading of the
minutes of the previous session, after which Doctor Duvall would speak
at length with particular reference to things lately accomplished and
the even more important things in contemplation for the near future.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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