The Voice of the PeopleGlasgow, Ellen Anderson Gholson
General
The Voice of the People
Glasgow, Ellen Anderson Gholson
Virginia -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
He knew that they all loved her, and it gave him a miserable feeling. He
felt that they were unworthy of her--that they would not worship her
always and become ministers for her sake, as he was going to do. He even
wondered if it wouldn't be better, after all, to become a prize fighter
and to knock them all out in the first round when he got a chance.
In a moment Juliet called him to her side and laid her hand upon his
arm. "He has promised not to rob birds' nests and to love me always,"
she said.
But the young men only laughed.
"Ask something harder," retorted one. "Any of us will do that. Ask him
to stand on his head or to tie himself into a bow knot for your sake."
Nicholas reddened angrily, but Juliet told the jester to try such
experiments himself--that she did not want a contortionist about. Then
she bent over the boy as he said good-bye, and he went down the walk
between the lilies and out into the lane.
He recrossed the green slowly, turning into the main street at the
court-house steps. As he passed the church, a little further on, the
iron gate opened and the rector came out, jingling the heavy keys in his
hand as he talked amicably to a tourist who followed upon his heels.
"Yes, my good sir," he was saying in his high-pitched, emphatic
utterance, "this dear old churchyard is never mowed except by living
lawn-mowers. I assure you that I have seen thirty heads of cattle upon
the vaults--positively, thirty heads, sir!"
But the boy's thoughts were far from the church and its rector, and the
words sifted rapidly through his brain. He touched his hat at the
tourist's greeting and smiled into the clergyman's face, but his actions
were automatic. He would have nodded to the horse in the street or have
smiled at the sun.
As he passed the small shops fronting on the narrow sidewalk and
followed the whitewashed fence of the college grounds until it ended at
the Old Stage Road, he was conscious of the keen, pulsating harmony of
life. It was good to be alive--to feel the warm sunshine overhead and
the warm dust below. He was glad that he had been born, though the idea
had never formulated itself until now. He would be very good all his
life and never do a wicked thing. It was so easy to be good if you only
wanted to. Yes, he would study hard and become learned in the law, like
those old prophets with whom God spoke as man with man. Then, when he
had grown better and wiser than any one on earth, his tongue would
become loosened, and he would go forth to preach the Gospel, and Juliet
would listen to him for his wisdom's sake. Oh, if she would only love
him best--best of all!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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