The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01, No. 02, December, 1857: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
History
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01, No. 02, December, 1857: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
the brass kittle, and speakin' more impatient than I ever heard her
speak to a minister's wife before. Well, I can't spend time to tell
all that Miss Jaynes said in answer, but it seemed some of the big
folks in New York had started a new society, and its object was to
provide, as near as ever I could find out, such kind of necessary
notions for indigent young men studyin' to be ministers as they
couldn't well afford to buy for themselves,--such as steel-bowed specs
for the near-sighted ones, and white cravats, black silk gloves, and
linen-cambric handkerchiefs for 'em all,--in order, as Miss Jaynes
said, these young fellers might keep up a respectable appearance, and
not give a chance for the world's people to get a contemptible idee of
the ministry, on account of the shabby looks of the young men that had
laid out to foller that holy callin'. She said it was a cause that
ought to lay near the heart of every evangelical Christian man, and
especially the women. 'We mothers in Israel,' says Miss Jaynes, 'ought
to feel for these young Davids that have gone forth to give battle to
the Goliaths of sin that are a-stalkin' and struttin' round all over
the land.' She said the society was goin' to be a great institution,
with an office to New York, with an executive committee and three
secretaries in attendance there, and was a-goin' to employ a great
number of clergymen, out of a parish, to travel as agents collecting
funds; 'but,' says she, 'I've a better tack for collectin' than most
people, and I've concluded to canvass this town myself for donations
to this noble and worthy cause; and I've come to you, Miss Bugbee,'
says she, 'to lead off with your accustomed liberality.'--Well, what
does your ma do, but go into her room, to her draw, I suppose, and
fetch out a five-dollar bill, and give it to Miss Jaynes, which I'd
'a' had to work a week, stitchin' from mornin' to night, to have earnt
that five-dollar bill; though, of course, your ma had a right to burn
it up, if she'd 'a' been a mind to; only it made me ache to see it go
so, when there was thousands of poor starvin' ragged orphans needin'
it so bad. All to once Miss Jaynes wheeled and spoke to me: 'Well,
Miss Tira,' says she, 'can I have a dollar from you?'--'No, ma'am,'
says I.--'I supposed not,' says she; which would have been sassy in
anybody but the parson's wife. But I held my tongue, and out she went,
takin' no more notice of me than she did of Vi'let, nor half so
much,--for I see her kind o' look towards the old woman, as if she was
half a mind to ask her for a fourpence-ha'penny. Well, that was the
last on't for a spell, until after New Year's. I was stayin' then at
your Uncle James's, and one afternoon your ma sent for your Aunt
Eunice and me to come over and take tea. So we went over, and there
was several of the neighbors invited in,--Squire Bramhall's wife, and
them your ma used to go with most, and amongst the rest, of course,
Miss Jaynes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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