The American Missionary — Volume 43, No. 09, September, 1889Various
Religion
The American Missionary — Volume 43, No. 09, September, 1889
Various
Congregational churches -- Missions -- Periodicals; Home missions -- Periodicals
One Lord's day, I went out to look after a Sunday-school in which one of
our missionaries had become interested, and where she labored part of
the year. The day was excessively warm. The distance was two miles, and
the horse cars would only take me half the way, leaving a walk across
the fields for the rest of the trip. There was no road, and much of the
way not even a footpath, and the fields were partly covered with water
from the frequent showers. I got along quite well during the first half
of my walk by picking my way, now and then elongating steps, or jumping,
generally with satisfactory results. Presently a place appeared where
the water seemed too wide to venture with safety. There was no
possibility of jumping this time, and I was ready to give up in despair,
when I discovered at some little distance a log laid across the narrow
part of the stream. I commenced the tight rope walk and was just
congratulating myself upon my heroic adventure which, with one step
more, would have landed me safely on the other side, when the log tilted
and off I went, my knees plowing into the mud making a hole as big as
grandma's workbasket. I lost no time in getting up. As I arose, I saw my
_best_ parasol and big palm-leaf fan floating along leisurely in the
muddy stream. These were secured later, but with much trouble, and my
portmanteau was fished from the hidden deep at the peril of crabs and
other biters who make such places homes of retreat.
I called at the nearest cabin, and found "Auntie" with a kind heart
ready to undertake the job of "cleaning me up." She took in the
situation at once, ejaculating, "Lor', honey! specs Is'e goin ter let
yer go ter Sunday-school wid dem ar close all spilt? Sam, take dem ar
shoes and wash em clar fru for Missus."
In a short time she said, "You's fine," and I started for the little
church close by, arriving just five minutes before the Sunday-school
closed. I was greeted with "Howdy" by the pastor, who is superintendent,
and was requested to speak to the children, while the whole Sunday
school, including twenty-six boys and girls, and seven fathers and
mothers, rose to their feet, indicating their delight to see me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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