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THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
The Stranger 
 
The 
 Land of the Spirit 
 
 By 
 
 THOMAS NELSON PAGE 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER S SONS 
 NEW YORK ::::::: 1913 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER S SONS 
 
 Published April, 1913 
 
Preface 
 
 POSSIBLY the most notable one change in 
 our national life in the last decades is the 
 deepening of its note. Whereas formerly 
 attention was given largely to things of the 
 surface, of late the mind has been directed 
 more to those things which lie beneath. A 
 whole realm has been opened up for consid 
 eration and for work. Duty to God and 
 duty to our neighbor have come almost 
 suddenly to assume a new and personal 
 meaning, springing unexpectedly into a new 
 relation to our life. And we find the uni 
 versal mind turning with serious heart- 
 searchings to a frank facing of the divine 
 commandments. Out of this fresh moral 
 consciousness have grown most of the new 
 moral movements in our day, and much 
 the larger part of the spiritual forces that 
 have had their birth in our time. From 
 taking thought only of the things of the 
 
 M741596 
 
PREFACE 
 
 body we have come to ponder the treasures 
 of the soul, and the new light has shown us 
 that the field is no longer confined to a 
 future state in some distant heaven, but 
 lies here actually in our midst. 
 
 These stories have been brought together 
 under their present title as in some sort re 
 flecting glimpses of this new Land of the 
 Spirit. Several of the stories are so based 
 on actual incidents as to be almost historical 
 in form, while others are less specifically 
 realistic. But it is hoped that all may be 
 recognized as typical of true conditions. 
 
 "The Stable of the Inn" is to some extent 
 based on the Golden Legend. The idea of 
 "The Old Planters " was first suggested by 
 a charming story entitled "The Passing of 
 Falstaff," which was read long ago in an 
 old magazine which it has been vainly 
 sought to identify that acknowledgments 
 might be made to its author. "The Bigot" 
 and "The Trick Doctor" were based on 
 incidents related to me by friends. "The 
 Shepherd Who Watched by Night" be 
 longs partly to the same class with these 
 
 vi 
 
PREFACE 
 
 and falls in partly with those yet to be men 
 tioned. It is real enough to be a transcrip 
 tion of fact and universal enough to be 
 found by any one who cares to open his 
 eyes. One Church is mentioned ; but all may 
 be signified. "The Stranger s Pew" and 
 "The Outcast" reflect phases of life unhap 
 pily universal, as any one may see who is 
 not wholly blind. The latter story was 
 written prior to the appearance of the play, 
 "Madame X," founded on the same theme. 
 It has never been published before. 
 
 THOS. NELSON PAGE. 
 
 March 4, 1913. 
 
 vii 
 
Contents 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE STRANGER S PEW 3 
 
 THE OLD PLANTERS 17 
 
 THE STABLE OF THE INN 82 
 
 THE SHEPHERD WHO WATCHED BY NIGHT . 107 
 
 THE BIGOT 133 
 
 THE TRICK-DOCTOR 187 
 
 THE OUTCAST 234 
 
Illustrations 
 
 The Stranger Frontispiece 
 
 FACING 
 PAGE 
 
 She treated him as an indulgent mother treats a feeble 
 child 66 
 
 Behind them streamed the mingled traffic of a road that 
 led to a great city 84 
 
 It was, then, not a dream. This was the sign unto them 104 
 "What are you doing here?" he asked 124 
 
 I assured him that I was deeply interested, and he told 
 
 me his curious story 154 
 
 At the moment he was making slow passes with his 
 hands 204 
 
 Simon shifted uneasily in his seat 228 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
THE STRANGER S PEW 
 
 THE church-bells were ringing loudly, and 
 
 the bells of St. s Church were giving 
 
 forth a particularly deep and resonant tone, 
 which set the frosty morning air to throb 
 bing. It was a fine chime, and the parish 
 ioners were justly proud of it. The tune the 
 bells rang now was, "Jesus, Lover of My 
 Soul." The broad street on which the 
 church faced was full of shining vehicles: 
 automobiles, with fur-clad chauffeurs, and 
 carriages with well-groomed horses prancing 
 in the chill air. The sidewalks, which in the 
 sunshine were covered with a sort of slush 
 from the now melting snow, were alive with 
 well-dressed men and richly dressed ladies 
 who moved decorously toward the hand 
 some stone portal, above which carven 
 saints, who had lived holy lives, stood in 
 stony repose. With solemn mien the wor 
 shippers entered, exchanging with acquain 
 tances tempered salutations or fragmentary 
 
 3 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 bits of news, bowing to the bowing verg 
 ers, who obsequiously showed them up the 
 dim aisles to their seats in cushioned pews, 
 where they settled themselves with an air of 
 satisfaction. Each pew contained a plate 
 or card engraved with the name of the 
 owner. 
 
 As the congregation passed in, off to one 
 side, in a shadow beneath the gargoyles, 
 which, with satanic rage graved in their 
 stone faces, appeared as if trying to spring 
 down from the eaves on the heads of the 
 church-goers, stood a person gravely ob 
 serving those who entered the church. His 
 garb was poor and he was manifestly a 
 stranger in that section. He had come im 
 mediately from the lower part of the town 
 where, a little while before, he might have 
 been found in a group about a rusty street- 
 preacher, whose husky voice, as he tried to 
 tell the throng about him of heaven and the 
 kingdom of God, appeared to excite their 
 amusement. Oaths and foul language were 
 freely passed among them; yet when the 
 preacher ended, a few of them moved off 
 
THE STRANGER S PEW 
 
 with serious faces, and one or two of them 
 stopped and offered their pennies to a blind 
 beggar working at a wheezy accordion. 
 The stranger joined the preacher and walked 
 away with him as if they had been friends, 
 and when he left him he turned toward 
 
 St. s, whose bells were just beginning 
 
 to peal. He accosted one of the passers-by 
 with the words, "Whose church is this?" 
 
 "This is Doctor s church/ said the 
 
 gentleman as he passed on. The stranger 
 moved a little away out of the shadow to 
 where the sunlight fell, and looked long and 
 curiously at the building. Another person 
 as he passed him and followed his glance 
 said: "A fine church. It s the finest in the 
 city." The stranger, however, did not ap 
 pear to hear. He only shivered slightly. 
 His worn clothing was so thin as to appear 
 wholly unsuitable to the winter tempera 
 ture, and his shoes showed his bare feet 
 through their gaping sides. His face was 
 grave, and marked as if by want or sorrow. 
 His eyes, deep sunken as with care, were 
 habitually cast down, and his shoulders 
 
 5 
 
THE LAXD OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 stooped as though he had long borne heavy 
 burdens. He might, but for his gentle ex 
 pression, have been a workman out of work, 
 who had known better days, but his counte 
 nance, as he talked to some little children 
 who had stopped by him, was kind and 
 gentle, and had something childlike in it. 
 As he stood talking with and enjoying 
 them, a number of the church-goers ob 
 served him and, after a consultation, one 
 turned back and said something to the chil 
 dren in a commanding voice, at which they 
 started and ran off, looking back, now at the 
 stranger and now at the gentleman, who still 
 remained in sight as if to see that his orders 
 were obeyed. The stranger too gazed after 
 the children, as if in a sort of pleasant 
 dream. From this he was aroused by an 
 other church-goer with an official mien, 
 who, after a casual glance at him, paused at 
 the threshold and then turned back. In 
 his gloved hand he carried a small gold- 
 headed cane, as fine as a reed, with which 
 he pointed at the stranger as he approached 
 him, and called in a tone of authority: 
 
 6 
 
THE STRANGER S PEW 
 
 " Don t hang around the church Go on." 
 So the stranger kept on until he had crossed 
 the street, when he turned just in time to 
 see the gentleman enter the church. As the 
 latter passed a bowing usher he paused to 
 say: "I am expecting friends in my pew to 
 day Lord and Lady [the name was 
 
 lost], so do not show any strangers to it." 
 The usher bowed. Close on his heels came 
 another who said: "No strangers in my 
 pew, they annoy me." "Yes, sir," bowed 
 the usher. At that moment a poor woman, 
 dressed like a widow, in a thin, shabby, 
 black dress, long worn threadbare, and with 
 shoes old and broken, passed by, and en 
 tering the church stood in the aisle just 
 within the door, timidly waiting to be al 
 lowed to sit down in one of the empty pews. 
 The official-looking gentleman passed her, 
 apparently without looking at her; but as 
 he passed a verger he said to him, with a 
 jerk of the head: "Give her a seat; don t 
 let people block up the aisles." The verg 
 er turned back and said to the woman, 
 in the same tone the other had used: "Sit 
 
 7 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 there, and don t block up the aisle." He 
 indicated a seat in a pew near the door, 
 and she sat down coughing. Her cough 
 was bad, and it appeared to irritate the verg 
 er. Every time he returned from showing 
 some one to his pew he kept looking at her 
 with an expression of disapproval, and pres 
 ently he walked up to her and said: "You 
 had better sit in that side-pew. Perhaps 
 you will not cough so much there." He 
 pointed to the first pew at the side, under a 
 gallery. The widow thanked him, and, 
 trying to stifle her cough, moved to the 
 other seat. 
 
 A little later the sound of the processional 
 came through the closed door, and the 
 stranger, outside, returned to the church, 
 and, as if half timidly, entered the vesti 
 bule by a door beside the main entrance. 
 The vestibule was empty. He stopped 
 long enough to read the inscription on a 
 memorial tablet, declaring that the church 
 was erected to the glory of God, and in 
 memory of some one whose name was almost 
 indecipherable. Then he glanced at the 
 
 8 
 
THE STRANGER S PEW 
 
 list of pew-holders, in a gilded frame, con 
 taining many names, though there was still 
 room for others. He tried to open the 
 heavy middle door, but it appeared to have 
 caught fast; for a drop of blood trickled 
 down as he stopped and gazed around. Fi 
 nally, after some apparent irresolution, he 
 entered the church by a small door at the 
 side of the vestibule. The church was a 
 large one and very richly ornamented. The 
 fine, stained-glass windows represented a 
 number of scenes taken from Bible history, 
 most of them, indeed, from the life of our 
 Lord there was the annunciation; the 
 scene in the stable at Bethlehem; the 
 healing of Jairus s daughter; the raising of 
 Lazarus; and over the high altar, on 
 which burned brightly a number of candles, 
 the Crucifixion and the Resurrection. The 
 church was so large that even with the con 
 gregation that had entered, many of the 
 pews were yet unoccupied. In one or two 
 of them was a card bearing the word : " Re 
 served." The congregation was praying as 
 he entered at least, some were; the priest 
 
 9 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 was reading a confession, and they were 
 following the words, some as they gazed 
 around, others with bowed heads. Near 
 the door, in pews, were a few shabbily 
 dressed persons. 
 
 After a glance of interest at the windows, 
 followed by a moment of irresolution, the 
 stranger moved up to where gaped a num 
 ber of empty pews; but even in the dusk of 
 the church the eye of a verger was too sharp 
 for him, and as he started to take his seat 
 the verger, with a gesture and a word, 
 halted him. "These pews are all taken 
 you must stand till after the second lesson/ 
 He indicated the open space near the door, 
 and the stranger, as if abashed, moved halt 
 ingly back. It was the first time he had 
 showed a lameness. He stood near the door 
 while the service proceeded, and listened to 
 the fine choir singing and chanting to the 
 strains of a great organ, wonderfully played. 
 Once or twice vergers came silently down 
 the aisle, when some one of the congregation 
 entered late, and rather scowled at him for 
 standing in the way. But when the "sec- 
 
 10 
 
THE STRANGER S PEW 
 
 ond lesson" was ended, the verger either 
 forgot the stranger, or missed him; so he 
 continued to stand, though from his ex 
 pression he appeared to suffer from pain, 
 and now and then shifted his pose wearily. 
 Only once he smiled. It was when, after a 
 telling notice of the needs of the parish by 
 the white-robed priest, and a high tribute 
 to the generosity of the people, a company 
 of gentlemen in kid gloves passed down the 
 aisles, with large silver platters, and took up 
 the offertory, while the well-trained choir 
 sang a voluntary of much intricacy a part 
 of which ran, " How beautiful are the feet 
 of them who bring the glad tidings!" and 
 as one of the collectors passed near him, 
 the old woman in black, with the bad cough, 
 tremblingly put in two cents. The col 
 lector wore a set and solemn expression of 
 severe virtue, quite as he had done outside 
 the church when he had ordered the little 
 children off. But the stranger smiled at the 
 old widow. The old woman caught his eye 
 upon her and, moving up a little, made a 
 place beside her which he took with a 
 
 ii 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 smile of thanks. As he passed the col 
 lector he reached out his hand over the 
 plate, but whatever he put in it fell so 
 softly as to make no sound. The collector 
 turned without looking at him and placed 
 his hand mechanically over the plate to press 
 down the loose notes. Just then the choir 
 ceased singing, the collectors formed in line 
 and marched up the aisle, standing in a 
 line while the collection was poured jingling 
 from one plate into another. Then the 
 priest received it, turned and marched to the 
 altar, and while he held it aloft the congre 
 gation sang, "All things come of thee, O 
 Lord, and of thine own have we given thee." 
 The old woman stood up, but could not 
 sing; she only coughed. 
 
 When the service was over the congrega 
 tion, fur-clad and cheery, poured out of the 
 church, greeting each other with words or 
 smiles somewhat measured, entered their 
 luxurious vehicles, and drove off. The stran 
 ger in the pew near the door, with a smile 
 of thanks as the poor widow, with her rack 
 ing cough, passed quietly out, followed her 
 
 12 
 
THE STRANGER S PEW 
 
 and crossing the way stood for a moment 
 in the shadow, as if observing the congre 
 gation; then, as the vestryman who had or 
 dered him off before the service appeared, 
 he turned and disappeared in the direction 
 which the widow had taken toward the 
 poorer part of the city. She was picking 
 her way slowly along the sidewalk when 
 she heard his voice, offering his arm to sup 
 port her. Her shoes were old and worn in 
 holes, and let in the icy water; but she 
 appeared not to mind it. Her interest was 
 in the stranger. 
 
 "Why, you are almost barefooted!" she 
 exclaimed in a pitying voice. 
 
 "Not any more than you," he smiled. 
 
 "Why, your feet are actually bleeding!" 
 she argued. 
 
 "Old hurts," he answered her. "The 
 church was cold." 
 
 "Yes, it was cold near the door," she 
 coughed. "You must come in and let me 
 see what I can do for you." 
 
 He smiled his thanks. 
 
 "You must come in and let me make you 
 a cup of hot something, I will make up my 
 
 13 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 fire at once." She was going to say "hot 
 tea," but she remembered she was out of tea. 
 
 "A cup of water would do for me/ said 
 the stranger. 
 
 She was at her door now, and her hands 
 were cold as she fumbled at the lock, and as 
 she turned after entering to call him in, he 
 had disappeared. She made her way up to 
 her little, cold, back room and sat down, 
 shivering and quite out of breath. The 
 coal was out, so she could not make a fire, 
 but she wrapped herself up as well as she 
 could and presently forgot her cold and 
 hunger in sleep. 
 
 As the official-looking man lifted his hand 
 on his way home his wife said," Why, your 
 hand has blood on it!" He glanced at it 
 with annoyance. "It must have come from 
 that money. I thought that person s hand 
 was bleeding." 
 
 "Whose?" demanded his wife. 
 
 "Oh, a stranger who was hanging around 
 the church." 
 
 It was not long afterward that, in the 
 poor part of the little town, in a very small 
 
 14 
 
THE STRANGER S PEW 
 
 and dingy house, and in a little back bed 
 room of that house, a sick woman lay dying. 
 The doctor who had attended her, sent by 
 a charity organization connected possibly 
 
 with St. s, had just left her side and 
 
 stood on a little dark landing outside the 
 door, which was slightly ajar, speaking in a 
 professional tone to a white-habited nurse, 
 who also had been furnished by the charity 
 organization. 
 
 "Well, there is nothing further to be 
 done," he said as he drew on his right 
 glove. 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 "How long did you say the coma has 
 lasted?" 
 
 "All day." 
 
 "She will not rally again; you know what 
 to do when it is over?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." It was all professionally 
 kind. 
 
 Just then a murmur came from the dying 
 woman within, and nurse and doctor, moved 
 by professional instinct, stepped softly back 
 to the bedside. Some change had taken 
 
 15 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 place in the patient. Her worn face had 
 changed. A new light had fallen on it. 
 "He is coming!" she murmured. "Oh, the 
 glory! You!" she exclaimed. "You! 
 Lord It was nothing How beautiful 
 are the feet!" 
 
 Her head turned slightly on the pillow, 
 and a subtle smoothing came over her face. 
 The doctor instinctively laid his hand on 
 her. "She is gone," he said; "I knew she 
 would." But he little knew how. 
 
 16 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS * 
 
 I 
 
 THE time when "The Old Planters " 
 first opened was a date so far back that the 
 memory of man runs not to the contrary. 
 It must, from its name, have been in the 
 "ante-bellum," or, as the old colonel used 
 to say, "antediluvian," period, when the 
 wealthy planters passed up and down the 
 country on their way back and forth from 
 their rich rice and cotton plantations on the 
 sluggish rivers to the mountains. Its name 
 denoted it; its ample rooms, carved mantels, 
 and heavy wainscot, long eaten of rats, and 
 its fine old classical portico all testified to 
 a colonial or post-colonial period, contem 
 porary possibly with the Revolutionary 
 name of the town, Liberty. 
 
 When the close of the war brought to an 
 end the regime on which the prestige of "the 
 
 *The author desires to acknowledge his debt to a charming 
 story, "The Passing of Falstaff," published some fifteen years ago. 
 
 17 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 old Planters " depended, the mansion stood 
 like some of those who had resorted there : 
 a mere relic of the past, still retaining its 
 stately mien but antiquated, out of date, and 
 sinking to decay in silent dignity. The once 
 snowy paint blistered and peeled from por 
 tico and portal ; the fences rotted to decay, 
 and the once carefully tended walks crum 
 bled beneath the foot not of man, but of 
 time and the elements. 
 
 Then came the boom as unexpected and 
 apparently as disastrous as the boom of the 
 guns that had startled and shocked the quiet 
 region in the terrible year, sixty-four, when 
 War s ploughshare ploughed a deep, broad 
 furrow through the land. 
 
 It was then that the new railroad, so 
 loudly heralded, came into, or nearly into, 
 the town, and, with levitical look, passed by 
 on the other side. Streets, long, dusty, and 
 hot, were laid out at right angles to one 
 another, taking in not only the suburbs, but 
 ranging on in their checker-pattern far into 
 the country, marking the green or brown 
 fields with long lines of naked, upturned 
 
 18 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 earth: deep cuts, and high "fills," which in 
 bad weather were impassable, and in all 
 weather were hideous, like raw welts on the 
 smooth body. "Corner lots" sold at fabu 
 lous prices to people who had never seen 
 them, and who never paid for them. A 
 mania seized on the people. 
 
 When the drop came, it was simply that 
 a drop. No one knew why it came or how. 
 The bubble had simply burst, and the boom 
 collapsed. No one had made money by it. 
 Every one seemed poorer than before, and 
 Liberty, after its one wild, boom orgy, sank 
 back into its old, dusty, humdrum life and 
 ways. Only the long, raw welts: cuts, and 
 fills ; a few ugly, modern brick structures 
 in boom parlance, "up-to-date blocks" 
 standing up bare and shameless and empty 
 among the quaint, dormer-windowed frame- 
 buildings or solid brick houses of an older 
 and serener age, marked its fall in its unhal 
 lowed chase for wealth. 
 
 It was in the boom-time that the large, 
 hideous shell, called the "Windsor Palace 
 Hotel," was built on the new street, termed 
 
 19 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 "Fifth Avenue," which, like Aaron s rod, 
 had swallowed the serpentine up-country 
 road. This hotel was the chief toadstool 
 of the mushroom city, and here, mainly in 
 its large bar-room, during its brief deceptive 
 career, the glib real-estate agent plied his 
 alluring and mendacious practices, and the 
 self-assertive drummer, cigar or toothpick 
 in mouth, aired himself and his views with 
 the confidence which had brought him to his 
 present eminence and was looked to with 
 assurance to take him higher. 
 
 When the boom had passed, the Windsor 
 Palace Hotel had passed also, though it 
 lingered on cataleptically for a year or two, 
 while only drummers stamped through its 
 vacant and resounding halls and shrunken 
 bar, discussing its future end with a shrewd 
 question or two as to "Old Dick s present 
 insurance," until it went up one night in 
 smoke, leading the astute young men who 
 "travelled" in that "territory" to nod saga 
 ciously, for the most part with an eye closed, 
 and curse the fate that would throw them 
 back to the old Planters . 
 
 20 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 II 
 
 IT was a topic of conversation among a 
 group of the travelling brotherhood one 
 autumn evening within my hearing in the 
 smoking-car of the little, ill-lighted, ill- 
 smelling train for Liberty, that jerked and 
 jolted over the winding and uneven road 
 which owed its crooked being to the ex 
 ploded boom of some few years back. There 
 were half a dozen of them all but one, 
 the eldest, from the North be-capped and 
 cigaretted and self-assertive, representing as 
 many different cities and "lines of goods," 
 and they had taken easy possession of the 
 car with the air of men who owned the train, 
 as in some sort they did. 
 
 The unanimous judgment of those who 
 had been so unfortunate as to have to stop 
 at "that joint" for one man was making 
 his first trip South was that it was "rot 
 ten," a view in which I was much interested, 
 for I was bound for Liberty myself. 
 
 "But, you know, the place has changed 
 hands since last season. Old Doodle s 
 
 21 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 pulled out and gone/ said the eldest of the 
 group, a pleasant-looking man of middle age 
 whom the next oldest called Marion, and the 
 others addressed simply as "Old man." 
 
 "Well, that s a blessing," observed an 
 other, with a young face, but an old air, as 
 of a man who has seen the world and found 
 it wanting. "Bound to be better; could 
 not be worse. Only place I ever put up at 
 where they had slop-water regular for soup 
 regular, mind you. I have seen it off 
 and on at Tim Tipple s roost on the P. D. & 
 Q., and at Slive Hunker s where I first 
 met you, Jake, you remember? and at 
 several other places; but never regular ex 
 cept at the Planters . I wonder who old 
 Doodle s unloaded on, and what he got?" 
 
 "Don t know, Mack; but he stuck who 
 ever twas, no matter what he got." 
 
 "That s easy. Ever try to sell him a 
 bill of goods or stand him off?" The laugh 
 that went up testified to old Doodle s char 
 acter. 
 
 "I can stand axle-grease for cheese, for a 
 variety," said one, whom the others called 
 
 22 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 "Henchy" short, as I learned, for Hench 
 man "but I do think the box ought to be 
 hid." 
 
 "Maybe, old Doodle s dead?" suggested 
 another who had been working over a pipe : a 
 curly-headed youth named Jake. His voice 
 had an accent of hope. 
 
 "No such good luck. That kind don t 
 die," said Henchy. "He s robbed some 
 poor devil and gone off, leaving him the bag 
 to hold." 
 
 " Tain t a him; it s a her," observed 
 Marion. 
 
 "A what? What kind of a her? Wid 
 or old maid?" "What s her name?" 
 "Where d she come from?" "How d she 
 get into it?" were questions all asked to 
 gether within a minute, with many fore 
 bodings that it would be "worse than ever," 
 unless, indeed, as some thought, that were 
 impossible. 
 
 "Named Garnett, I think," said Marion, 
 when the questions slackened. "Widow, I 
 judge. They always spoke of Mrs. Gar- 
 nett s. Her husband was let me see 
 
 23 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 what did they say? Oh, yes; they said he 
 was a colonel and had let me see done 
 something in the war? What was it? Oh, 
 I don t know; played hell somewheres at 
 Gettysburg or somewheres. Oh, I don t 
 know." 
 
 "Well, I m glad he s dead, anyway," ob 
 served Mack, amiably. 
 
 "I guess he was dead some time before 
 they buried him," said Jake, a view that met 
 with a prompt indorsement. 
 
 "I think I ll go on, and wire my folks 
 to-morrow morning," continued the youth. 
 "I m getting too old for this sort of thing. 
 I like a bed s 11 stand still an not run clean 
 away." 
 
 "I ve got to stop," said another, despond 
 ently: a traveller for "notions." "Got a bill 
 of goods to look after. Sold last season, by 
 one of the firm, and the Boss sent me down 
 specially to see what s to pay." 
 
 "Oh, well, I guess I ll stop. I m tough." 
 
 "You re that all right, Jake," observed 
 his friend, to the appreciation of the others. 
 
 "Why didn t old Doodle have brains to 
 24 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 do like old Dick up to the Windsor, and 
 burn her and collect his insurance like a 
 gentleman, instead of playin off on a poor 
 widdy woman?" 
 
 "Now, if I d said that!" commented the 
 one they called Jake, with an expressive gest 
 ure and shrug, at which there was a laugh. 
 
 "You wouldn t dare," said Mack. 
 
 "Oh, tain t so bad," suddenly observed 
 a pleasant-looking fellow who had not 
 spoken before, and whose name I afterward 
 learned was Wilson. "I crossed a fellow 
 the other night at the theatre in Florence. 
 Said he d been there, and they were mighty 
 nice folks had it now. Didn t know very 
 much about runnin a hotel, left it pretty 
 much to two old niggers, but were straight 
 all right. Sort of high-toned, and make you 
 feel sort of company; but he said there was 
 an all-fired However nothing." He 
 stopped short, and the next second tried to 
 adjust his necktie by the reflection in the 
 darkened window-pane. 
 
 Just then the conductor, a thin, gaunt 
 man, with deep lines in his face, came in 
 
 25 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 with his dim lantern in the crook of his arm 
 and spoke to a young man who had got on 
 at a station a little way back and had sat 
 ever since on the opposite side from us. 
 He had a law-book on his knee ; but for the 
 most part he gazed straight ahead in reflec 
 tion, which I judge must have been pleasant, 
 from the smile which occasionally flitted 
 across his face, making him suddenly almost 
 handsome. 
 
 "That Joe Daniel 9 s ahead there been 
 foolin with a pistol," said the conductor; 
 "that s a mean man." 
 
 "It is mean whiskey," said the young 
 man, quietly; "he is all right when he 
 keeps away from liquor." 
 
 "Mean whiskey and mean nigger, too," 
 said the conductor with conviction. He un 
 expectedly took from his side pocket a pistol 
 and handed it to the young man. "Give 
 that to old Julius, will you, and tell him to 
 keep that nigger off my train." His jaw 
 suddenly took a firm outline. 
 
 "I reckon you will have to do that, cap 
 tain," said the young man with a laugh, as 
 
 26 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 he pocketed the pistol. "He has got away 
 from Julius." 
 
 "Well, I want him to keep off my train, 
 trying to make trouble," said the conductor, 
 decisively, as he reached up for the bell- 
 rope. 
 
 Next moment the engine whistled the 
 hoarse cry of the dusty brakeman, "Lib 
 erty!" set the group of drummers to gather 
 ing up valises and sample-cases, and specu 
 lating as to whether they would find a bus 
 or a "nighthawk," or would be forced to 
 plough through the mud. 
 
 Ill 
 
 THE train came jokingly to a halt, and 
 I followed the group of drummers as they 
 picked up their traps and moved out of the 
 door. On what should have been the plat 
 form, but was a stretch of sand uncertainly 
 lighted by the dull gleam sifted through the 
 car windows, a few loungers stood about 
 in the gloom, hands in pockets, and up the 
 track a little way beyond, where a negro 
 
 27 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 was talking drunkenly, was heard the jar of 
 trunks as they dropped heavily from the 
 baggage-car in the fitful light of a smoky 
 lantern. My friends, the drummers, moved 
 up in a group, opening in a chorus of objur 
 gations by no means complimentary to Lib 
 erty or the railway, when a lantern appeared 
 close beside us, and a voice insinuated itself 
 through the dusk. 
 
 "Planters Hotel, gem men? On y fust- 
 class hotel in de city, suh." 
 
 Muttered terms of derision were ex 
 changed between the young men as they 
 kept on toward the baggage-car, from which 
 the heavy thud of trunks being dropped 
 on the ground still came, the fitful gleam 
 of the lantern moving beside us as the 
 bearer kept pace with us. 
 
 "All out?" inquired a voice; to which the 
 reply came, "Yep; let her go!" and at the 
 conductor s announcement, "All aboard!" 
 sung out in the darkness behind us, the 
 engine gave a screech, and, with a labored 
 chug-chug, the train started. 
 
 As the band of dim light from the win- 
 28 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 dows moved on beyond us, grotesquely zig 
 zagging up the banks ahead of us, and dis 
 appeared beyond, leaving only the light at 
 the rear of the train glowering back at us 
 like a dull, crimson eyeball, three or four 
 negro youths appeared, offering to take our 
 grips and asking for a dime. The voice near 
 us once more insinuated itself: "Planters 
 Hotel, gem mens? On y fust-class hotel in 
 de city. I ll teck yo baggage. Jes gimme 
 yo carpet-bags yo grips, and yo checks." 
 
 The drummers were counting their pieces 
 and, finding the tale correct, one of them 
 turned and asked: "Got a bus?" 
 
 "Aw yes, suh; yes, suh. Got a got 
 eve ythin . Jes gimme yo checks. I ll 
 ten to eve ythin . Needn t trouble yo self 
 bout nothin . You jes lef em to old 
 Julius. He ll ten to em. You jes wait fo 
 me a minute." A shrill explosion of laugh 
 ter from one of the negro boys standing list 
 lessly by drew from him a sharp rebuke. 
 "What you laughin at? Git back out o 
 my way or I ll mak you laugh wrong side 
 yo mouf." 
 
 29 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 The checks were handed over to him, and 
 a colloquy ensued between him and the 
 station-agent, while the drummers discussed 
 and inveighed against the fate that had led 
 them to a Sunday at Liberty. 
 
 Finally the old colored man turned. "All 
 right, gem mens. Jes a minute. I ll be 
 dyah in a minute, an I ll show you de 
 way." 
 
 "Where s the bus ?" they called after him. 
 But with a "Yes, suh; yes, suh; close by," 
 he disappeared in the darkness without 
 vouchsafing further answer. 
 
 " I believe he s lying. Don t believe there 
 is any bus," hazarded one of the young men. 
 "Did he say there was a bus?" 
 
 "Of course he s just lying." 
 
 Just then the sound of wheels reached 
 us, and an old rattle-trap of a wagon ap 
 proached through the dusk and drew up 
 beside the luggage. 
 
 A negro boy near by gave a shrill laugh 
 of amusement and turned to one of his 
 companions. 
 
 "Dat swhathecallabus." 
 30 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 "Now, gem mens, gimme yo grips." 
 
 "Here, I thought you said you had a bus! 
 What do you mean by lying to us ? Do you 
 call that a bus?" the drummers called to 
 him derisively. 
 
 "Well, suh, not edzackly a bus, but a 
 ve-hicle," said the old fellow. And with 
 much clatter the luggage was got into the 
 wagon. The old man handed his lantern 
 to a negro boy, saying, "Heah, light de 
 gem mens," part order, part request, and, 
 turning with a bow to us, said : " Gem men, 
 you jes foller me. Jes foller old Julius." 
 He mounted his wagon amid the jeers of the 
 drummers and drove on through the sand. 
 
 After a drive and plod of a mile through 
 the sand, during which the drummers bom 
 barded him with their raw-edged wit all the 
 way without a moment s peace, the driver 
 called, "Whoa!" and the horse stopped at a 
 gate in front of a large, double-winged, old- 
 fashioned mansion, set back from the street, 
 with big pillars two stories high. The old 
 man descended from his perch. 
 
 "Jes walk right in, gem mens," he said 
 31 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 with a new air. " Yo ll fin eve ythin com- 
 f table, and de cim l in dyah waitin supper 
 fo de guests." 
 
 This last, at least, was encouraging; for 
 the night air and the trudge through the 
 sand had whetted our appetites. So, with 
 many directions to him to take care of their 
 baggage, the "guests" filed up the path, 
 and, crossing the wide and somewhat dilapi 
 dated porch, entered the only "fust-class 
 hotel in Liberty." 
 
 Before us was a large hall, at present 
 empty, on one side of which, beginning 
 about half-way back, curved up a fine old 
 stairway of the colonial pattern, with fluted 
 spindles. On each side were rooms, and at 
 the back two doors opened on the rear. 
 The furnishings were a long table, on which 
 stood a big lamp with a smoky chimney and 
 two or three well-thumbed volumes; half a 
 dozen or more chairs and a long rack on the 
 wall, flanked by a number of old prints of 
 horses and dogs, and a well-smoked portrait 
 of an elderly gentleman in a velvet coat and 
 ruffles, with a dress-sword at his hip. In 
 
 32 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 7 
 
 one of the rooms at the side, which presented 
 the appearance of a sort of parlor, an old 
 man was seated in an arm-chair, reading a 
 newspaper by a dim lamp on a round table 
 with a heavy carved base; but if he heard 
 us enter, he took no notice of us, and we 
 were left in the hall to our own devices until 
 the old darky shambled in at the back door, 
 lugging the highly prized hand-bags. 
 
 IV 
 
 THE young men stood about, inspecting 
 the scanty and battered furniture in the 
 apartment, the time-marked prints on the 
 wall, and the objects visible through the 
 open door of the adjoining room, and pass 
 ing criticisms on them, mainly jocular and 
 often acute. The old gentleman, they de 
 cided, was probably the parlor-boarder, en 
 gaged in gleaning last year s news from the 
 weekly newspaper. Mack hazarded a wager 
 that he was "an old Rebel general living 
 on his memories of * before the war , and a 
 bottle." The bottle-clause had no taker. 
 
 33 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 Gradually the criticism extended until it in 
 cluded the entire region and everything in it, 
 which they damned generously and impar 
 tially. "It s the same eternal Southern 
 shiftlessness," said Mack, to which the 
 others gave a hearty assent. 
 
 Suddenly I became aware of a presence: 
 a little old lady in black had appeared 
 among us, though where she came from, I 
 scarcely knew, she had entered so quietly. 
 She went around and spoke to each one, 
 extending her hand, and giving us all a word 
 not only of greeting, but of welcome. She 
 was a quaint little lady, very spare and 
 meagre-looking, with bright, kind eyes, and 
 was dressed in a black dress, very old and 
 much worn, with a white kerchief about her 
 throat. Her gray hair, brushed simply 
 over her temples, added to the old-time air 
 which surrounded her and appeared to per 
 vade the place as she entered. When she 
 extended her welcome to me I observed that 
 the hand she gave me was curiously small, 
 and so hard that it gave me a pang. It 
 seemed quite incongruous with her soft, 
 
 34 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 silvery hair, delicate features, and gentle 
 air. 
 
 "Will you write your name for me?" she 
 asked with a smile, as she turned to the old 
 ledger on the table, adding, as though by 
 way of apology, " I like to have my friends 
 write their names down so that I can re 
 member them." 
 
 In awkward silence one man after another 
 shambled up and scribbled his name and 
 handed the pen to his neighbor, instead of 
 flinging it on the table as he usually did at 
 a hotel. They were beginning to be under 
 the spell, as I was. 
 
 "And now," she said, with a glance 
 around at each one, "I wonder if you would 
 not like to run up to your rooms before sup 
 per? Supper will be ready soon. It will be 
 a little late to-night, as we had a little acci 
 dent in the kitchen; but it will be ready, I 
 hope, in a short while. How many are 
 there of you?" She counted us: "One, two, 
 three, four, five, six. Oh, dear! I have 
 only four rooms ready. I wonder if any of 
 you happen to be brothers?" she inquired. 
 
 35 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 "Yes, those two are brothers/ declared 
 Mack, pointing shamelessly at a dark little 
 fellow with an Italian face and at the light 
 est-haired man in the lot. "And those 
 two." He pointed at me and the one called 
 Marion. All four of us protested, but if 
 Mrs. Garnett heard, she paid no heed to us. 
 
 "Well, supper will be ready directly," 
 she said, "so you may want to go to your 
 rooms. And I will have your valises sent 
 up as soon as my servant comes in unless," 
 she added as an afterthought, "you prefer 
 to take them up with you, as he has to look 
 after his horse." I set the example by 
 grabbing my bag, and the others rather 
 gloomily followed suit. Thus armed, we 
 waited. 
 
 "Oh," she said, "you don t know your 
 rooms, do you? Of course not. Well, I 
 must show you, and you can suit yourselves. 
 Come along." She proceeded to pilot us 
 up the broad, bare stairway, followed by 
 the procession of drummers, who were nudg 
 ing and hinting to one another their views 
 of the Planters and their determination to 
 
 36 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 "get out of that" by the first train the next 
 day. The selection of rooms rather in 
 creased this decision. The chambers were 
 large and absolutely bare of all but the 
 necessary furniture; but that was of rose 
 wood and mahogany, high, testered beds 
 and dressers, once handsome, now much bat 
 tered and defaced. I must say they were 
 clean, a rare and unlooked-for virtue. Ma 
 rion and I, as brothers, took one together. 
 A minute later the old darky bustled in, 
 perspiring freely with his haste. "OP Miss" 
 had sent him "to see if de gem mens wanted 
 anything." What we wanted we did not 
 say. 
 
 PRESENTLY a bell sounded down-stairs, 
 and we all descended. I was struck with 
 the change the last quarter of an hour had 
 made in the young men. In the interval 
 all had brushed their hair, and nearly all 
 had put on clean collars. The Jew s crinkly 
 curls glistened with the water that was still 
 on them, while the heads of most of the 
 
 37 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 others were brushed as smooth as energy 
 and care could make them. 
 
 The lady was waiting for us down-stairs. 
 Still we waited, and impatience began to be 
 manifested in more faces than one. In a 
 moment, however, the door opened, and the 
 same old colored man we had seen appeared 
 with a waiter under his arm. 
 
 "Is Master down?" inquired the lady. 
 
 "Yas m; he s in dyah," said the old 
 darky. 
 
 "Will you walk in?" she said pleasantly, 
 when she was satisfied that we were all pres 
 ent or accounted for. She turned toward 
 the door. The man who stood nearest was 
 about to swing in at the door ahead of her, 
 but Marion, who stood next him, seized 
 him by the arm with a grip that made him 
 wince, and Mrs. Garnett swept in. I caught 
 sight of the same back I had seen in the 
 other room. The man was seated at the 
 foot of the table, but rose on our entrance 
 and bowed to us. 
 
 "My husband, gentlemen," said the lady 
 with a smile so natural that we all felt 
 
 38 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 rebuked, or, at least, lost our manner of 
 levity. 
 
 "Glad to meet you, gentlemen," said the 
 old fellow, with a bow so grand that I was 
 quite unprepared for it. "Won t you take 
 seats?" He spoke quite as if we were his 
 guests, and the awkward way in which my 
 fellow-travellers shuffled into their chairs tes 
 tified their unwonted embarrassment. Even 
 the Jew and Mack kept silence, and under 
 some accession of respect forbore to wipe 
 their plates with their napkins. If, how 
 ever, the Colonel, as he was called by his 
 neighbors, observed it, he gave no sign. He 
 opened the conversation, at the same mo 
 ment that he took up his carving-knife, and 
 led it along easy lines, addressing himself 
 now to the table at large, now to each per 
 son, whom he addressed as, "You, sir." 
 
 "The train was a little late," he observed. 
 "Our roads are shamefully conducted by 
 these new gentry who have come down" 
 he did not specify from where, but it was 
 plain what region he indicated "and are 
 undertaking to gobble up everything." He 
 
 39 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 hoped his servant had been on time to meet 
 us and bring up our "carpet-bags." This 
 word he corrected a moment later, and used 
 the term " baggage." The negroes were " so 
 trifling these days" that one could never 
 count on them; "utterly inefficient," he de 
 clared them; but he admitted that Julius 
 Daniel was quite an unusual man for a 
 negro. "He owns a little wagon and horse 
 which he uses to bring baggage up from the 
 station, and is quite an exceptional man." 
 This reference he made while Julius was out 
 of the room purveying a fresh assortment of 
 batter-cakes, and I observed that he never 
 referred to the "negroes" in Julius s pres 
 ence. This led him to the subject of the 
 war, and he was soon deep in the campaigns 
 of the Army of Northern Virginia, which, 
 by his account, were one long blaze of glori 
 ous victories, undimmed by a single reverse. 
 In the midst of his account, one of the boys, 
 who travelled for "yarns," asked, "Were 
 you in the war?" 
 
 "Sir?" said the colonel, who thought he 
 had not heard him correctly. 
 
 40 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 "Were you in the war?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," said the colonel, quietly, and 
 turning, he addressed a man on the other 
 side of the table, and never again looked at 
 the questioner; nor did he again refer to the 
 war, but spoke entirely of what had oc 
 curred "before the war," when, as he said 
 frankly, "he lived," adding that now he 
 "only existed." 
 
 Mrs. Garnett, at the head of the table, 
 dispensed her tea and coffee with the gra- 
 ciousness of a lady to her guests, and I ob 
 served that she did not eat a mouthful. 
 Through an open door behind her I caught 
 a glimpse of a stout old colored woman mov 
 ing about, and once I thought I saw a young 
 girl, with a plate in her hand, peeping in at 
 the door and smilingly beckoning to Julius. 
 
 When we were through supper, the old 
 fellow at the foot of the table rose and, with 
 a wave of his hand, said: "The smoking- 
 room is across the hall, gentlemen." Then 
 with a bow to his wife : " My dear, you will 
 excuse us?" And we all followed him, feel 
 ing much as if we were in a play. I must 
 
 41 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 say that my respect for him rose, and so, I 
 think, did that of the others, for he treated 
 us as a host treats his guests, offering us 
 pipes, of which there was a small and bat 
 tered collection, and apologizing for not hav 
 ing any cigars, after having called Julius and 
 inquired if there were not some. 
 
 "Well, please remind me to get some to 
 morrow, 5 he said. 
 
 "Yes, suh; but to-morrer s Sunday," said 
 the old negro. 
 
 "Sunday? So it is. Well, remind me 
 on Monday." 
 
 "Yes, suh." Julius solemnly withdrew. 
 
 "They have no memory whatever, none 
 whatsoever," observed the old fellow in a 
 tone of resignation when Julius had retired. 
 
 Through an open window the hum of 
 voices came to me, and I caught sight of the 
 glint of a white dress passing down the walk, 
 and thought I recognized beside it in the 
 dusk the straight back and slouched hat of 
 a young man I had seen on the train. Sud 
 denly, as the latch clicked, the old colonel 
 rose, and, with a bow like that with which 
 
 42 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 he had greeted us, said: "Well, gentlemen, I 
 regret that I have to leave you. The in 
 firmities of age begin to press upon me, and 
 an old wound sometimes gives me trouble; 
 so I have to retire rather early and get my 
 sleep. I believe you all know your rooms, 
 and Julius will be on hand in case you re 
 quire anything. Pray ring for whatever 
 you need. Good night." And with an 
 other bow he shuffled off. 
 
 One man after another had awkwardly 
 risen from his seat under some unwonted, 
 but compelling impulse to do what they pos 
 sibly had not done in all the years of their 
 travelling. As the door closed, the little 
 Jew turned, and, with a shrug and spread 
 of his hands outward, said: "Veil, he s a 
 new von on me. I haf seen em all, but he s 
 new goods. What you make of him ? You 
 haf lived before the war." He addressed 
 himself to Marion. The traveller for yarns 
 answered for him. 
 
 "He has gone to lay up to his bottle." 
 This created a diversion in which the old 
 fellow s reputation somewhat suffered, as, 
 
 43 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 one after another, the drummers, released 
 from the unaccountable influence of his 
 presence, sank back into their habitual atti 
 tude of cavilling criticism. One recalled the 
 old man s dissatisfaction with everything 
 since the war. Another cited his allowing 
 his wife to attend to the business of the 
 establishment; while several others united 
 in criticising his views on the Negro, though 
 the old negro whom we had seen appeared 
 to do all the work. Thus, when we went 
 to bed the attitude was one of hostility to 
 the colonel and of growing criticism toward 
 everything in the house. That the Pied 
 Piper had not piped all the rats away, I 
 could have testified that night. 
 
 VI 
 
 NEXT morning, although I descended to 
 breakfast rather late, it being Sunday, I 
 found myself among the earliest, and one by 
 one my companions of the evening before 
 drifted in. Mrs. Garnett was seated at the 
 head of the table, and her greeting made 
 
 44 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 amends, at least to me, for the delay in get 
 ting breakfast. The meal did not differ in 
 many respects from that of the evening be 
 fore, the chief difference consisting in a 
 larger assortment of hot bread, and in old 
 Julius s clean shirt and high collar. In the 
 glare of the daylight our hostess looked 
 older and more worn than she had done the 
 night before, and, notwithstanding the fact 
 that her attire was more carefully arranged, 
 it looked even more threadbare than it had 
 done in the softened lamp-light. The col 
 onel did not appear at breakfast, and old 
 Julius did the honors, urging "anuther cake, 
 gem men?" or "jes a cup of coffee?" in ac 
 cents as soft as velvet. 
 
 Presently, just after the last of her guests 
 had entered and she had poured out his 
 coffee, the hostess addressed the table at 
 large: "Now, young gentlemen, how many 
 of you will accompany me to church? I 
 hope you all will. We have two pews, and 
 have the privilege of as many more sit 
 tings as we need, and even if we are a little 
 late- 
 
 45 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 I never saw such undisguised astonish 
 ment as that which sat upon the faces of the 
 entire company. They were too surprised 
 to laugh, which I greatly feared they might 
 do. The young Jew was equal to the emer 
 gency. "Veil, Fm a Jew," he said, looking 
 her guilelessly in the face. "My Sabbath 
 vas yesterday." 
 
 "I m a Catholic," said the traveller for 
 notions, "and I m afraid of Father Horri- 
 gan." He winked openly at Marion, who 
 looked away and refused to see him. 
 
 "I am sure it would not do you any 
 harm," said the lady, mildly; "and if Father 
 Horrigan is as good a man as I hope he is, he 
 will understand. However, I do not wish 
 you to go against your conscience." The 
 snicker, audible down the table, was, I sup 
 pose, at the idea of Dalling s having a con 
 science; but Marion, to break the effect, 
 announced his wish to accompany her. I 
 followed suit, and so did the two other 
 young men, bent, as I believe, on sheer mis 
 chief, though another possible reason for it 
 appeared a few minutes later. 
 
 46 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 I was seated in the smoking-room with 
 my back to the door, which was open, when 
 I became aware that something was taking 
 place in the hall, on which the attention of 
 my companions was suddenly riveted. Fol 
 lowing their glance, I saw Mrs. Garnett in 
 the act of presenting her escorts to a young 
 lady, who, simply attired in white, with a 
 large, white hat round which was wrapped 
 some soft, white stuff, seemed suddenly to 
 transform the entire establishment. An 
 old colored woman was at the moment on 
 her knees behind her, arranging her skirt, 
 her eyes on her full of adoring affection, her 
 white teeth gleaming with gratified pride, 
 and when the young lady turned and smiled 
 down at her, she gave an answering nod of 
 complete satisfaction. When I joined them, 
 I was presented to "My daughter," and I 
 quite understood Wilson s unfinished refer 
 ence of the evening before to the "all-fired" 
 something, and his instinctive tug at his 
 necktie. Her face had a charm in which I 
 thought grave responsibility had played its 
 part, for the frank smile in her eyes was 
 
 47 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 deepened by the firmer lines about the 
 mouth. But I own that a large, white hat 
 shading a lovely face, lighted by beautiful 
 eyes, quite destroys my judgment as to de 
 tails. It is the proper canopy of romance. 
 
 So, leaving the others, I thought, in a 
 somewhat crestfallen condition, we went 
 to church, where we sat high up in a pew, 
 evidently one of the best, among "the qual 
 ity," and heard a perfectly sound and arid 
 sermon. When we came out we found the 
 rest of my fellow-travellers standing some 
 what obtrusively among the throng that 
 lined the sidewalk to see the congregation 
 come forth, and certainly a dozen young 
 men, obviously waiting to ask the privilege 
 of escorting our young lady home, of whom 
 the young fellow I had seen on the train 
 bore off the honors. We knew that after 
 noon from Julius that "Mist Calvert" was 
 a "mighty fine gem man." 
 
 The old colonel showed off better in 
 church than he had done the evening before ; 
 in fact, he was a dignified figure in his thread 
 bare black coat, his limp, but speckless 
 
 48 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 linen, frayed collar, and worn necktie. But 
 it was not at the colonel that my young 
 men gazed. 
 
 The dinner was late; but was good, and, 
 as I discovered afterward, was prepared, at 
 least in part, by the young lady who had 
 adorned the pew at the morning service, 
 and who now, having doffed her church 
 apparel, turned Abigail and served the 
 meal. I caught, through an open door, a 
 glimpse of her with sleeves rolled up over 
 arms round enough to have served as mod 
 els to restore those the Venus of Melos had 
 lost, an apron up to her white throat, and a 
 stout old negro woman helping her to dress 
 a cake. That afternoon we all knew that 
 she taught in the Sunday-school, and later 
 we knew from Mack that she had gone to 
 walk with that "same young fellow," as 
 Mack termed him, with something of repro 
 bation in his tone. The effect on the young 
 men was striking and immediate. I never 
 knew a greater or more sudden accession of 
 piety, and Father Horrigan, if the extreme 
 constructionist that Dalling had declared 
 
 49 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 him, would have been scandalized by his 
 parishioner s backsliding. Next morning 
 not a man was late to breakfast, and when 
 the young lady started for the school which 
 she taught, little Mack nearly broke his 
 neck to open the gate for her. 
 
 When we came away no one was about 
 except old Julius, and presently one of the 
 boys said to him : " I want to pay my bill and 
 get off." 
 
 "I ll teck it," said the old fellow, simply. 
 So we paid him, and left our good-bys for 
 our hostess. 
 
 VII 
 
 I DID not visit Liberty again for two years ; 
 but when I had occasion to return there, on 
 the same jolty little train I found little 
 Mack and almost the same set of drummers. 
 As the young men fell into conversation I 
 fancied I saw some change in them. What 
 was it? They had undoubtedly refined. 
 They were less loud and a trifle less vulgar. 
 They were all headed for Liberty to spend 
 Sunday, which in itself surprised me, and I 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 began to ask questions about our friends of 
 the Planters . 
 
 "Oh, the Planters was about the same; 
 but that was all right, and yes, e oV 
 mistis was all right and the colonel, too, 
 just the same let his wife and daughter do 
 all the work while he held his job down/ 
 telling how trifling the niggers are and hit 
 ting the bottle." This view of the colonel 
 was warmly contested by Mack. 
 
 "I know the sort. It s the Southern of 
 it," put in unexpectedly a new man who 
 had been sitting on the other side of the car. 
 Mack turned on him with a cold gleam in 
 his eye. "Travelled in the South much?" 
 
 "No; and don t want to, either." 
 
 "What do you travel for?" 
 
 "Brass goods." 
 
 "Thought so," said Mack, shortly, and, 
 turning his back on him, lowered his tone. 
 
 " Did you ever hear what Plane, of Plane 
 & Snapper, said about him?" he asked us. 
 "He said that he d tried to help him; but 
 he just couldn t be helped couldn t do a 
 thing in the world. But that was all straight 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 goods those fellows gave us about him in the 
 war chargin the battery, and about his 
 being shot through, and asking the fellow to 
 please lend him his arm; but he said he was 
 "all in years ago said he was just ineffi 
 cient/ " 
 
 Presently I discovered that nearly every 
 one of them was bringing some contribution 
 to the larder, or some present to his friends. 
 One had something vaguely characterized 
 as "canned goods," which he was taking 
 down "from his mother," though he casu 
 ally mentioned that his mother had died 
 when he was six years old, and he d "like to 
 know what his old man s second order 
 would think of it if she were asked to con 
 tribute anything to anybody on earth. She 
 had never let the old man give him a cent 
 since he was twelve." Yet another had a 
 box of cigars for the colonel, which he 
 brazenly declared he would give him as 
 Havanas, though they were made by Wrap 
 & Co., of Norwalk, Connecticut. "He ll 
 never know the difference; wait and see." 
 Another had a turkey which his sisters were 
 
 52 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 sending down as a token of their apprecia 
 tion of Mrs. Garnett s trying to get him to 
 go to church. "What did I say their names 
 were, Skin?" he asked his friend in the next 
 seat. "I know I tried to give em quality 
 names/ as old Jule says." 
 
 "That comes of trying to get a gloss on," 
 commented his friend. 
 
 So it went. Nearly every one had picked 
 out something to eke out the fare these 
 young knights of the sample-case thought 
 too scanty for their needs, yet were willing 
 to put up with for some undefined compen 
 sation. I wondered what it could be. I 
 wondered how much of their surprising new 
 interest in the Planters was due to the 
 youngest member of the colony; but I got 
 no inkling of this. 
 
 We landed at Liberty about the same 
 hour and in much the same way that we 
 had landed there before. Old Julius was on 
 hand, but this time the greeting was wholly 
 different. The young men were now plainly 
 on intimate terms with the old negro. 
 
 "Hello, Uncle Jule!" "Hello, old man; 
 how s everybody?" they called. 
 
 53 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 " G d even , gem mens. All s well, thanky, 
 suh. Who s dat ? Why, hi ! Ef dat ain t 
 Mister Marion! Dat you, Mister Mack? 
 How s you all, gem mens? Umhum! Got 
 a big bus full to-night." 
 
 You ve got a bus, have you? New 
 one, I suppose ? Four horses, rubber tires ? 
 Well, fetch it around." So they pelted him 
 with questions as he busied himself among 
 their bags, his face lighted up by the fitful 
 gleam of the smoky lantern. But now the 
 tone was friendly. And the answer was a 
 laugh. "Bus nough to git de ol man a 
 extry quarter or two." 
 
 " How s everybody ? OF miss ? " 
 
 " All fust-rate, gem mens. Dey ll cert n y 
 be glad to see you. De cun l was sayin las 
 week twas bout time for you all to be 
 along." 
 
 "Is that so?" The speech had been ad 
 dressed to the group, and the reply was gen 
 eral and appreciative. 
 
 "Yes, suh, dat he was. He was talkin 
 bout you jes yistidy, Mr. Marion." 
 
 "He was?" The old traveller was mani 
 festly pleased. 
 
 54 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 "Yes, suh. He axed me ef I thought de 
 bar l o flour d hold out. T you ought to 
 be along most any time, now." 
 
 "He s gauged you, all right, old man," 
 clamored the others. The negro was taken 
 rather aback by the application of his mas 
 ter s speech. 
 
 "No, suh, gem mens. De cun l he didn t 
 mean nothin like dat. He likes a gem man 
 to be a hearty feeder. Dat s what mecks 
 him lak you gem mens. He say he never 
 see such a hearty feeder in his life." 
 
 Perhaps it was to create a diversion that 
 the hearty feeder asked: "How are the 
 rats?" 
 
 " De rats ? De ain t a rat on de place." 
 
 "There ain t? What s become of em? 
 Eaten em?" 
 
 "No, suh, not a rat," persisted the old 
 man. "De cun l tol me not long ago to git 
 rid of em, if I had to bu n de house down." 
 
 " That s the only way to get rid of them 
 rats," interpolated Marion. 
 
 "Cause he said," pursued the old negro, 
 "he was p intedly afeared Mr. Marion 
 
 55 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 wouldn t come back no mo . He said he 
 never see a man so skeered o rats in his 
 life. Dat he warn t as much afeared o Yan 
 kees endurin de war as Mr. Marion was o 
 rats." 
 
 "They weren t as dangerous," said Ma 
 rion, amid laughter. 
 
 Just as we were about to start, some one 
 asked in a querulous voice if we could tell 
 him what the best hotel was, and how he 
 could get there. It was the man who had 
 been snubbed on the train by little Mack. 
 No one had taken any notice of him, and 
 now he was in a very bad humor. 
 
 "Uncle Jule," called Mack, without look 
 ing at him, "here s some one wants to know 
 what s the best hotel in Liberty. Can you 
 tell him?" 
 
 The old darky descended solemnly from 
 his wagon, on which he had perched himself, 
 and, hat in hand, bowed to the stranger. 
 "Oh, yes, suh. De Planters s de on y fust- 
 class hotel in Liberty. Jes gimme yo 
 checks, suh." 
 
 "How far is it?" demanded the stranger. 
 56 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 " Tain t so fur. Jes a little ways. You 
 gimme yo carpet-bag. You jes follow dese 
 gem mens. Dee s all goin dyah. You can t 
 git em to go nowhere else. You ax em." 
 
 "What sort of a hotel is it?" asked the 
 new-comer. 
 
 "Good enough for us," answered one of 
 the young men, shortly. 
 
 "Where s the bus?" 
 
 "Uncle Jule, show him the bus." 
 
 "Well, ur de bus ain heah dis evenin ," 
 said the old man diplomatically. "But 
 you jes foller dese gem mens; dey loves to 
 walk." 
 
 "Well, I don t, I want a conveyance." 
 
 "No, you want the world with a new 
 painted fence around it," snapped one of 
 the drummers. The stranger was evidently 
 angered. 
 
 "It s this confounded Southern shiftless- 
 ness," he snarled. 
 
 "Yes, that s it you know all about it," 
 assented a familiar voice out of the group. 
 "Where are you from?" It was little 
 Mack. 
 
 57 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 " From north of Mason and Dixon s Line, 
 thank God!" 
 
 "You are thankful for small favors," 
 sneered Mack, who was himself from Hart 
 ford, Connecticut. "What d they run you 
 out for?" 
 
 " Run me out ? I wasn t run out. What 
 do you mean?" 
 
 "Oh, I thought you wouldn t have come 
 down to a country you think so ill of, if you 
 could a stayed anywhere else." 
 
 "I m travelling down this way for my 
 health," growled the other. 
 
 "Well, I can tell you one thing," said the 
 little drummer, "your health will not be 
 improved by expressing views like that 
 around the Planters ." 
 
 The walk up through the sand was as 
 before; but only Tompkins, the stranger, 
 swore at it. The others, whether amused at 
 his unhappiness or accustomed to it, were 
 good-humored and lively. 
 
 The greeting we received was enough to 
 have put even an older lot of wayfarers in 
 good humor. If we had been cousins, that 
 
 58 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 generic name by which are known all who 
 have even a drop of common blood, we 
 could not have received a warmer welcome 
 from the mistress; and even the colonel, 
 though he had manifestly failed since I saw 
 him last, was most cordial, and as soon as 
 the names of the young men had been re 
 called to him, asked particularly about their 
 families. 
 
 At the table I observed that Jake and 
 little Mack had laid aside their flaming 
 neck-gear and travelling-men s hotel man 
 ners, and whatever came in at the door be 
 hind Mrs. Garnett s right shoulder was "de 
 licious." When Miss Garnett came in with 
 a plate of cakes, every man was on his feet 
 instantly. 
 
 It was astonishing what early risers they 
 became, how often their way lay in the 
 direction of Miss Garnett s school, though 
 it was on the outskirts of the town, and 
 how regular they grew to be at early Sun 
 day tea. As far as I could learn, no one 
 of them except possibly Mack ever vent 
 ured to speak a word of gallantry to her, 
 
 59 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 though I heard of Jake s once saying to 
 Marion, "I vish her name vas Rachel." 
 An indefinable something seemed to wall 
 her around and shield her. Little Mack 
 overwhelmed her with plush-covered boxes 
 of every hue and shape, which bespoke his 
 sentiment as different flowers conveyed that 
 of older, but not more ardent suitors. It 
 was evident, indeed, that several of the 
 "guests" had fallen under her spell. I 
 knew of their guilefully misleading her on 
 the street when the colonel would be making 
 his way slowly homeward after having lin 
 gered too long with some old comrade to 
 discuss a battle or an extra julep, though he 
 was never really intoxicated; and little 
 Mack first snubbed, then openly insulted, 
 the dyspeptic and ill-bred youth who, as 
 stated, was out on his first trip through the 
 South. When the latter came to the table 
 the evening following our arrival, it was 
 soon apparent that he had a grievance 
 against the entire region, and proposed to 
 air it. He called for things that only a 
 first-class hotel could furnish, and with 
 
 60 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 every bow and apology from old Julius that 
 they were " jes out/ and every expression of 
 regret from "ol miss - that they did not 
 have that, he gave a sniff, until little Mack, 
 with a snap in his eyes, chipped in to the 
 rescue with the point-blank suggestion that 
 he must have been a cook. The new arrival 
 flared up, but Mack had the gallery, and 
 when Tompkins began to boast about his 
 house selling everything in brass, Mack 
 asked innocently, "Brass monkeys?" 
 
 "Yes, brass monkeys, too, if you want 
 them." 
 
 "No," said Mack. "I don t like the 
 sample." 
 
 As Tompkins left the table he said audi 
 bly: "This is the rottenest hotel I ever 
 struck." If Mrs. Garnett heard, she did not 
 show it; she only looked down in her plate. 
 Little Mack strolled out, and half an hour 
 later, with a cut lip and a black eye, he 
 handed Mrs. Garnett a letter with an apol 
 ogy from Tompkins for having been rude to 
 her. Tompkins took his breakfast in his 
 room the next morning, and when I saw 
 
 61 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 him on his way to the train that evening, the 
 manner in which Mack had extorted the 
 apology was rubricated over his face. I 
 was not surprised to observe later that old 
 Julius always began the hot cakes at Mack s 
 seat, or that the colonel offered him first 
 his cigars, which he said his friend Jake 
 had done him the honor to bring him, 
 adding, "I am assured they are the finest 
 Havanas." 
 
 But Tompkins s troubles were not over. 
 His bag had been cut by rats, and he had 
 refused to settle his small board-bill, having 
 no doubt a feeling of having been badly 
 used, and taking this method of settling the 
 damage done to his property. I was leaving 
 by the same train, which, as happened, was 
 considerably late, and thus was present in 
 the waiting-room when Nemesis, in the per 
 son of old Charlotte, the wife of Julius, 
 panting and perspiring from her rapid walk 
 through the sand, strode in at the door. A 
 man s slouch hat was on her head, and she 
 had on her kitchen apron. A glance of the 
 eye picked the delinquent out from the 
 
 62 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 other half-dozen passengers waiting, and 
 she walked up to him. 
 
 "You sMr. Tompkins?" 
 
 "Who says so?" asked Tompkins surlily. 
 
 "I says so I knows you. I don wonder 
 you s shamed to own it." 
 
 "What do you want?" 
 
 "My mistis s money, what you owes 
 her." 
 
 "I don t. Who says I owe her ? Who is 
 your mistis?" 
 
 "I does; I says you owes her, and you 
 knows you does. Mr. Mack done had to 
 whip you once bout bein impident to her, 
 and I don t want to have to git after you." 
 She glared at him with so instant a gaze 
 that the young man quailed. He put his 
 hand in his pocket. 
 
 "I paid all I owe, and more, too." 
 
 "You didn t." 
 
 "I did. I paid all but enough to pay for 
 the rats cutting my bag." 
 
 "Rats! Never was a rat in dat house. 
 Gimme my mistis s money." 
 
 "How much is it?" he growled. 
 63 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 "You knows how much t is, and I knows: 
 gif t to me." 
 
 Tompkins counted out a small sum re 
 luctantly. "I was going to send it back," 
 he growled which, I think, indeed, was 
 possibly the truth; but it did not satisfy 
 the old woman. 
 
 " Was gwine 5 ain doin it," she snapped 
 implacably. 
 
 "I want a receipt for it," growled Tomp 
 kins. 
 
 r You want dat you ain gwine git," she 
 said. 
 
 She turned and bowed impressively to 
 the rest of us. "Good even , gem mens; I 
 ain gwine see my old miss money stoled 
 by no po white trash." And she marched 
 out of the door. 
 
 VIII 
 
 " FUNNY old place, ain t it?" queried one 
 of the young men, who, like myself, turned 
 up to spend Sunday at the Old Planters 
 a week later. "Now, that old fellow ought 
 to have a gold mine right here; and if 
 
 64 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 7 
 
 he had it, he wouldn t open it." To some 
 extent this was true. After making allow 
 ances for the colonel, his best friend must 
 have admitted that he was now about as 
 "inefficient," to use his neighbor s word, 
 as a man could be. Adverse fortune and 
 conditions had done their work, and possi 
 bly "laying up to the bottle," as Jake char 
 acterized it, had done its part, though he 
 never appeared under the influence of liquor. 
 He was simply a derelict, too battered and 
 broken by the storm that had swept over 
 him to make any headway or answer to any 
 rudder, and he now lay awash in the trough 
 of the sea, waiting for the final wave to 
 drive him beneath the surface. His face 
 had grown perceptibly more pallid and va 
 cant, his air more absent, his step more un 
 certain, and but for the motive power fur 
 nished by his wife and daughter, he would 
 doubtless have come to a standstill and 
 ceased to be. It was only on rare occasions 
 that his mental machinery now gave signs 
 of motion. In the presence of a lady any 
 where, or of a guest in his own house, the 
 
 65 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 gentleman in him still flashed out after the 
 man had almost faded into vacuity. His 
 wife s manner to him was wonderful. It 
 was maternal. She treated him as an in 
 dulgent mother treats a feeble child, and 
 yet paid him a respect that was beautiful. 
 I had not quite defined it until my attention 
 was called to it by the Jew. 
 
 "That s the vay ve do it," he said briefly, 
 in an undertone, with a nod of his curly 
 head over toward the chair when Mrs. Gar- 
 nett was leaning over her husband, arrang 
 ing his breakfast. " But ve do not sit down, 
 sit down, sit down, and read papers all the 
 time because ve are old. Because it is our 
 law. That s the reason ve get along 
 always." 
 
 As harsh as it was, we had all about agreed 
 with the characterization of the old fellow as 
 "a dead one," and even Mack s defence of 
 him had not done more than mitigate the 
 contempt of youth in its arrogant energy 
 for one who had so completely passed. 
 
 "He s dead, and don t know it," said 
 Jake with light disdain. 
 
 66 
 
She treated him as an indulgent mother treats a feeble child 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 But he was not quite dead. 
 
 We had left the table one evening and as 
 sembled in the hall, leaving the old man doz 
 ing in his chair without the energy to leave 
 it. Just then there was a stir outside. 
 Some one hurried by through the quiet even 
 ing, then another, then the sound of voices 
 speaking hurriedly, then men ran by. 
 Something unusual was taking place. We 
 felt it. A change had occurred. A youth 
 hastily entered. 
 
 "Don t you fellows want to go down 
 town? There s the devil to pay. They 
 say a nigger has shot a man, and they are 
 going to string him up." 
 
 "A lynching? Come on! Let s see what s 
 up!" And there was a scurrying for hats 
 and a rush down the walk. In two minutes 
 we were on the outskirts of a crowd, already 
 dense and rapidly growing, in a narrow side- 
 street in the lower part of the town. Push 
 ing in, we found the crowd at a standstill, 
 peering down a dark alley, at the end of 
 which was a small house in which the fugi 
 tive was said to have taken refuge. He was 
 
 67 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 said to be a desperado and was armed with 
 a pistol, and some said with a Winchester 
 rifle. He had shot a man in a drunken rage, 
 and when an attempt was made to arrest 
 him, had shot and wounded the constable, 
 and now he had barricaded himself in this 
 house, swearing to kill any one who 
 attempted to take him. The constable, a 
 stout, roundfaced fellow, with one arm in a 
 sling and a large pistol in his other hand, was 
 calling for a posse to help secure the despe 
 rado; but while many were eager to assist 
 him, none was willing to lead in an assault 
 down that narrow alley. To do so, they all 
 agreed, would be simply foolhardy. It was 
 a sheer death-trap. All sorts of plans were 
 being suggested to get at him. They might 
 set the fence along the alley on fire and burn 
 the desperado out, or they might fire the 
 adjoining shanty. The mere suggestion 
 seemed to have lighted the brands, so 
 quickly did men appear with flaming 
 torches. The sight set the crowd wild. 
 They suddenly changed to a mob, and 
 clamored for fire. Just then there was a 
 
 68 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 stir which ran counter to the mob s fury: 
 the colonel made his way quietly to the 
 front of the crowd, and I heard him ask 
 ing the name of the criminal. Some one 
 gave it Joe Daniel. 
 
 "Joe Daniel! What Joe Daniel? Not 
 old Julius s son?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, he s the one." 
 
 "What has he done?" 
 
 "Killed a man." 
 
 "Killed a man! Whom? How did he 
 come to do it?" 
 
 The story was gone over with additional 
 details of horror. The old gentleman made 
 a clucking sound with his tongue, expres 
 sive of sorrow. "Tcht! tcht! tcht!" He 
 caught sight of the constable, and ap 
 proached him with the same question. The 
 constable explained briefly. He had not 
 killed any one had only shot at a man, 
 wounding him, and when he went to arrest 
 him, he had shot him, and then had run into 
 this house and sworn to kill any one who 
 tried to take him. "And I m going to get 
 him, if I die for it," added the officer. " I m 
 
 69 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 going to show him no damned nigger can 
 run this town." 
 
 "Of course not," said the colonel, mildly, 
 and again he made the clucking sound with 
 his tongue. 
 
 "I m just plannin now to get him out. 
 I don t want him to kill nobody." 
 
 "I will get him," said the colonel. "You 
 wait here." As he turned toward the alley 
 the officer caught him. 
 
 "You mustn t go down there, colonel. 
 He ll kill you, sure." 
 
 "Oh, no, he won t. He knows better 
 than to try any insolence on me." 
 
 " But, colonel, you really mustn t. You 
 if you go, I ll go, too." But the old man had 
 gone. Straight down the alley in the dusk he 
 marched. The next instant a blaze flashed 
 from a window, a loud report came, and a 
 bullet crashed through the wall of a house 
 hard by, which made the crowd scatter and 
 seek shelter behind the corners. We heard 
 the colonel shout. Another shot followed, 
 and another in fierce succession; but a mo 
 ment later we heard the old fellow banging 
 
 70 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 on the door rap-rap-rap with his cane, 
 and caught his voice in a tone of command: 
 "Open the door instantly." This was fol 
 lowed by a colloquy the tenor of which we 
 could not hear. 
 
 The act had struck the crowd with amaze 
 ment, and the colonel was for the moment 
 the master of the mob. They discussed 
 him freely, and debated the chance of his 
 bringing the negro out. 
 
 "He s a wonder, anyhow, that old man." 
 
 "Who d a thought he d still have the 
 grit to do that!" 
 
 "Grit! Did you ever hear about the 
 time at Malvern Hill he went right up to the 
 gun and caught the rammer?" 
 
 "I heard about him at Gettysburg, when 
 he got shot through, and told some one to 
 give him his arm to help him over the fence,, 
 so he could go up and take the hill." 
 
 "If they hadn t shot him, he d a taken 
 it too." 
 
 But the next minute the door opened, 
 and we heard the old man s voice berating 
 some one. A few minutes later two dark 
 
 71 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 objects appeared at the end of the alley, 
 and, as they drew near, the colonel s voice 
 once more was heard, "Mr. Constable, dis 
 perse that crowd, and come forward and re 
 ceive your prisoner." I scarcely knew the 
 voice, it had changed so. It had in it an 
 unexpected ring. As the officer advanced, 
 there was a sort of roar from the crowd, and 
 they made a sudden rush, which swept over 
 him. It came, however, to an even more 
 sudden stop. There was the gleam of 
 something in the hand of the figure in the 
 alley, as the torchlight flashed on it, and a 
 warning, sharp and high-pitched: "Stand 
 back, every one of you! Til shoot the first 
 man that comes forward. I have given the 
 prisoner my word that he shall be protected 
 and receive a fair trial, and he shall have it." 
 
 The crowd stopped, and the voice could be 
 distinctly heard. "Come on, Joe! Stand 
 back, there, all of you!" 
 
 I never quite knew why it was, but that 
 mob fell back and opened out; and, looking 
 neither to right nor left, the old man walked 
 on through it, with the negro, sobered now 
 
 72 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 through fear, pressing close behind his 
 shoulder, the officer walking at his side. 
 Possibly one explanation was contained in a 
 short phrase I caught from a bystander, 
 answering a friend: "You know, if he said 
 he d do it, he would." However this was, 
 Joe was locked in the jail that night, and the 
 colonel came home with a more erect mien 
 than I had ever seen him wear, and had a 
 long colloquy with old Julius, who looked 
 the picture of woe. 
 
 Next morning he was much as he had ever 
 been, dull and indifferent, garrulous about 
 events before the war, querulous about the 
 negroes, whom he declared to have been 
 utterly ruined by freedom. For Joe, the 
 prisoner, he appeared to have only a feeling 
 of mild contempt. "A very good boy, sir. 
 He would have been one of my negroes" 
 Joe had been born several years after the 
 war "Utterly ruined. All he needed, sir, 
 was a master. A good whipping would 
 have spared him the penitentiary, and the 
 State all the expense of his trial. Freedom, 
 sir, has still many crimes perpetrated in its 
 
 name. 53 
 
 73 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 I never saw old Julius so attentive to the 
 old fellow. Always respectful, he now hung 
 about him all the time in a sort of dumb 
 dependence. 
 
 Joe was duly sent to the penitentiary for 
 a considerable term, and the only persons 
 who thought the sentence excessive were the 
 family at the Planters and possibly the 
 clear-eyed young lawyer who defended him, 
 whose opinion might have been taken with 
 some allowance, as he was in regular con 
 ference every evening with the young lady 
 whom Joe s father always referred to as 
 "My young mistis," and Joe s mother al 
 ways spoke of as "My chile." 
 
 The trial came off at the fall term of the 
 court, the colonel sitting in a chair close 
 behind the prisoner all through the tri^l, 
 and talking about him at home in the even 
 ing quite as if he were one of the family, the 
 burden of his lament being the negroes 
 need of a master. And soon afterward 
 came off an event which blessed one lover s 
 heart, even if it desolated many more. Cal- 
 vert, the young lawyer, whose efforts in be- 
 
 74 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 half of old Julius s son had proved so futile, 
 was more successful in his pleading in a 
 tenderer court. None of us were in Lib 
 erty, but little Mack sent a large writing- 
 desk finished in old-gold plush as his final 
 tribute. 
 
 IX 
 
 WHEN I returned to Liberty that autumn, 
 I found the Planters for some reason duller 
 than I had ever remembered it; and this 
 was, as I learned, the general feeling of the 
 set of drummers whom I had met on my 
 first visit. Both Marion and Mack de 
 clared that they should seek new routes. 
 "Business was growing dull. Too much 
 competition was ruining the country." 
 
 "Especially in young lawyers," inter 
 jected Jake, to which the others vouchsafed 
 no reply. It came to me quite clearly that 
 little Jake had hit the mark. The table was 
 much worse than ever, the colonel much 
 dimmer. Only "ol miss" and Julius were 
 the same. 
 
 75 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 At the table one morning, Henchman, 
 who had just arrived, mentioned to Mack 
 that he had run across his friend Tompkins 
 a little farther south, making his way slowly 
 northward. 
 
 "How is he getting on?" asked "ol* 
 miss," catching the name. 
 
 "Still complaining," said Henchman. 
 "He had been sick and had a bad season." 
 
 "Too much competition?" interjected 
 Jake. 
 
 Remembering Tompkins, I was prepared 
 to hear the subject dropped. But Mrs. 
 Garnett went on: "Oh, poor fellow! We 
 must get him here and take care of him. 
 Do you know his address?" Henchman 
 gave the name of a town a little farther 
 south, and the hotel at which he got his 
 mail. 
 
 Next evening Tompkins turned up, pale 
 and haggard. He had received a telegram 
 inviting him to come and rest. He was 
 manifestly an ill man, suffering from a rag 
 ing headache and fever. Next morning he 
 had broken out, and was so ill that a doctor 
 
 76 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 was called in. In ten minutes the whole 
 house was astir. A whispered consultation 
 took place between the doctor and Mrs. 
 Garnett, and then Mrs. Garnett notified 
 the young men that they had better leave 
 possibly it might be small-pox. No second 
 suggestion was necessary. Within fifteen 
 minutes every room in the house was empty 
 except those occupied by the family and 
 the large chamber in which Tompkins had 
 been put. 
 
 Small-pox it was. 
 
 As we were leaving, some one of us said 
 to Mrs. Garnett, "You will put him in the 
 hospital, of course?" 
 
 "No. There is no hospital in Liberty; 
 but if there were, we could not turn the poor 
 boy out. We must do the best we can with 
 him here." The old colonel, who, ever 
 since the announcement came, had been fol 
 lowing his wife about with mingled appre 
 hension and wonder on his vague face, asked 
 what she had said. She repeated it. 
 
 "Hospital! Of course not! Who ever 
 heard of turning a sick man out of the house ! 
 
 77 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 I shall nurse this fellow here, and hope not 
 to get it." 
 
 "Turn him out! Nor, suh, dat we ain t! 
 We don turn nobody out o our house, sick 
 or well," said a voice, as old Julius lined up 
 behind him. 
 
 When we were safe in the car, with every 
 window open, Mack said: "Lord! Lord! 
 Were there ever such impracticable folks on 
 earth!" There was a long pause, and then 
 the traveller for yarns burst out: "I take 
 back every darned word I ever said against 
 em ! I want you fellows to remember that, 
 and I ve said many a one. They may have 
 what they please on their table, or nothin 
 at all, if they choose; I know they d give it 
 to us if they had it, and I can go elsewhere 
 and get something to eat: but I won t get 
 that anywhere else." He gave a jerk of his 
 head toward the rear of the train. "And 
 when I get sick, that s where I want to go." 
 
 Then a strange thing happened. The 
 stingiest man in the lot, the one whose name 
 was used as a by-word by his friends, spoke 
 up. "Fellows, we ve got to do something 
 
 78 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 for em. We ve got to keep em goin . I m 
 good for ten. What do you fellows say?" 
 "Well, Waxy can t beat me," said one 
 after the other, and soon the crowd was 
 making up a snug little sum to send back 
 "to help Tompkins." 
 
 X 
 
 I DID not get back to Liberty for some 
 years after this; but falling in on a train 
 with little Mack one day, I asked after our 
 friends there. 
 
 "All gone," he said briefly. 
 
 "The old colonel? Dead?" 
 
 He nodded his head. "Him and old 
 Julius both that Tompkins!" he added 
 briefly. "You remember the time he ar 
 rested that drunken nigger who had stood 
 off the town?" 
 
 "I remember." 
 
 "Gee! That was a nervy thing. I 
 wouldn t have gone down that alley that 
 night to be a partner in my firm, and that 
 old fellow went down by himself and made 
 that nigger come out. You remember?" 
 
 79 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 "I remember." 
 
 The drummer paused in reflection. " How 
 did he do it?" 
 
 "Courage." 
 
 "Yes, of course. But there were plenty 
 of others there who had courage, too; but 
 he made him do it. Seems like he knew 
 how to do it. Didn t calculate. Just did 
 it out of out of just damned so. I 
 never used to believe all those things he 
 used to tell about what they did during the 
 war. Used to think he was just lyin . 
 You remember how we used to sit around 
 and josh him?" 
 
 "I remember." 
 
 The drummer gave a nod of conviction. 
 "Well, he done em. You bet if he ever 
 said he done em, he done em. One thing 
 he didn t do was to lie." He turned and 
 looked out of the window. I agreed to this 
 heartily; but my companion was not think 
 ing of me. He was back at the old Plant 
 ers . 
 
 " Lord ! If that old man had been trained 
 in Wall Street, what wouldn t he have been! 
 Why, he d have had a cinch. His nerve! 
 
 80 
 
THE OLD PLANTERS 
 
 Shot through twict, and goes down there in 
 the dark with a drunken nigger pumpin 
 lead at him, and made him give up his gun 
 when he didn t have energy enough hardly 
 to pick up his newspaper when it fell off his 
 lap on the floor!" 
 
 "And OF miss ? the Planters ? Who 
 owns it now?" 
 
 " Burned down. No insurance, of course/ 
 he said complainingly. "And you ought to 
 see what they ve got there now for a hotel! 
 Worse than the Planters at its worst, and 
 no C O1 miss to make it go down. Some of 
 us fellows and Tompkins talked about 
 settin her up stakin her; but she said no, 
 she was too old, and she was all broke 
 up. She went to her daughter. Twas just 
 as well we didn t try." 
 
 "Where is she now?" I inquired. 
 
 "Dead All gone!" 
 
 He turned and looked out of the window, 
 and presently took up a paper as if to read. 
 But I observed that he was not reading. 
 
 81 
 
THE STABLE OF THE INN 
 
 IT was in the twenty-seventh year of the 
 reign of Augustus Caesar or, as some say, in 
 quite another year in what was known 
 simply as the tenth month, or, by another 
 account, at the beginning of the eighth 
 month. 
 
 Toward the even-tide of a calm day, 
 two travellers of the peasant class, a man 
 and a young woman the latter riding an 
 ass, beside which the man walked toiled 
 slowly up the rough highway that climbed 
 the rocky hills a little to the southward of 
 the ancient capital of Judaea where Herod 
 now reigned. The top of the pass in the 
 range toward which their faces were set was 
 crowned with a small town, whose walls, 
 lifted above the straggling olive trees, 
 gleamed white and pink in the light of the 
 declining sun. The wayfarers had jour 
 neyed all day, and the woman was faint 
 with fatigue. At length she spoke to the 
 
 82 
 
THE STABLE OF THE INN 
 
 man. He bowed his head and, as they 
 reached a convenient point, turned out of 
 the rough and dusty highway, and at a little 
 distance came to a halt in a sloping, bare 
 field to one side, in which, on an outjut of 
 rock, stood an old and rude tower, lifted 
 above the folds along a ledge of the hill 
 the tower of Eder. On the lower hills be 
 yond the far edge of the field some shep 
 herds were minding their flocks as they 
 grazed their way slowly homeward along 
 the sides of the rocky ravines which seamed 
 the range. 
 
 Moving far enough into the field to be 
 beyond the dust and noise of the highway, 
 and, if necessary, to seek refuge in the 
 tower, the man helped the woman to dis 
 mount with more gentleness than was usu 
 ally shown by people of their class. Be 
 hind them streamed the mingled traffic of 
 a road that led to a great city. Men on 
 foot or mounted on asses or camels passed 
 along; truckers with loads of produce 
 packed in immense panniers on their beasts 
 or bearing on their heads bundles so huge 
 
 83 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 that it was a wonder they were not crushed 
 beneath them; drovers with herds of dusty 
 cattle or flocks of sheep and goats on the 
 way to market; travellers of a better de 
 gree, with servants and attendants follow 
 ing their horses or chariots; long lines of 
 camels swinging slowly by in single file like 
 great flocks of gigantic four-legged birds, 
 the dust spurting in clouds at every step 
 from their lagging feet. And now and then 
 a body of soldiers swung clanking by, taking 
 the best part of the road and with imperious 
 voices ordering every one out of their way. 
 The man in the field was already past 
 middle age and, though of the peasant class, 
 his face was strong and his features good, 
 like so many of his race. The woman, young 
 enough to be his daughter, might have been 
 taken for his wife, save for a certain distance 
 in his manner toward her. A young Roman 
 noble who passed them that day, on his 
 way to Herod s court, observing them, and 
 noting, with an eye for beauty, the delicate 
 features of the young woman, disclosed by 
 her veil s slipping for a moment, concluded 
 
 84 
 
Behind them streamed the mingled traffic of a road that led 
 to a great city 
 
THE STABLE OF THE INN 
 
 that the woman was some Jewish girl of 
 station, and that her attendant was her 
 father s steward escorting her home. She 
 was, indeed, treated by her companion with 
 a distinction approaching reverence. Hav 
 ing helped her down, he spoke softly and 
 spread his robe on the ground for her to sit 
 upon. 
 
 From a little distance floated upward the 
 bleating of sheep, and presently the flocks 
 began to appear, winding up from the lower 
 slopes, led by their shepherds toward the 
 folds built on the sides of the rocky hills. 
 To the woman s sigh of fatigue the man 
 replied soothingly that they would soon be 
 at their journey s end at Bethlehem. 
 
 "Little Bethlehem!" murmured the young 
 woman. 
 
 " And thou Bethlehem, in the land of 
 Juda, art not the least among the princes 
 of Juda, " quoted the man. " For out of 
 thee shall come a governor that shall rule 
 my people Israel/ But thou art faint. 
 The bottle is dry. The child that cried to 
 us for water took the last drop. I will try 
 
 85 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 to get thee some. The shepherds yonder 
 will have it." She hinted something of her 
 fear for him if he went among strange men ; 
 for the road from Jericho, which they had 
 lately crossed, was infested with robbers 
 and the shepherds were a wild and reckless 
 class. He reassured her and left her. Bear 
 ing the leathern bottle in his hand, he 
 crossed the field and went over to one of the 
 sheepfolds near by, where he talked to one 
 of the shepherds, an elderly man, bearded 
 to the eyes. When he returned a little 
 later, he bore in his hand a bottle of milk 
 and a piece of the coarse bread that the 
 shepherds eat. Not long afterward the 
 shepherds themselves came over, one after 
 one; plain; bearded; beaten by the weather; 
 tanned by the sun; men of the field, with 
 their stout staves, their sheep-skin coats 
 and goat-skin leggings, and their bags, or 
 scrips, hung over their shoulders. At their 
 approach the young woman, who was soon 
 to be a mother, shyly drew about her her 
 veil, which was ample enough to cover her 
 from head to foot. The man as quietly 
 
 86 
 
THE STABLE OF THE INN 
 
 moved forward and, interposing between 
 her and the strangers, greeted the leader. 
 But they were friendly. They wanted to 
 talk. 
 
 "Thou art from Galilee? * queried the 
 shepherd in the lead, a rough, grizzled man 
 with eyes that burned deep under his 
 shaggy brows. "Thy speech is Galilean?" 
 
 The other man bowed. 
 
 "Of Nazareth." 
 
 "Can any good thing come out of Naz 
 areth!" jeered a voice from the rear. 
 
 "As good as from Kerioth," answered an 
 other, at which his companions laughed. 
 The speaker turned to the traveller. 
 
 "Thy name is what?" 
 
 "Joseph, son of Jacob." 
 
 "Thou knowest my uncle, Zebedee, the 
 fisherman? He hath a fine son 
 
 "I know him and his son James, and 
 young Simon of the Rock who fishes with 
 him." 
 
 "I know him not," said the shepherd; 
 "but Zebedee is my mother s brother, and 
 Judas the Zealot 
 
 "His wife is half-sister to her," said the 
 87 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 traveller, with a movement of the head to 
 ward the young woman. 
 
 The connection made an impression on 
 all around and the men drew closer to 
 gether. 
 
 "Dost thou know Judas the Zealot?" 
 Joseph bowed. 
 
 "Hast thou seen him lately?" 
 
 " But the other day he came up from the 
 sea to my shop to get a sheath put to his 
 fish-knife/ 
 
 "I know that knife," said the shepherd, 
 glancing around at his companions with 
 pride. "He had it of one of the Sicarians. 
 The Romans did not get it." 
 
 The other shepherds laughed hoarsely. 
 
 "It hath done other work in its time," 
 continued the shepherd. "I heard my uncle 
 tell of it. When Judas s father was slain, 
 one of his captains flung himself over the 
 cliff, and my uncle found the sword later at 
 the foot of the cliff when he was drying his 
 net." 
 
 "When didst thou see him last?" asked 
 Joseph, as if to change the subject. 
 
 "He came to the Passover and sought me 
 88 
 
THE STABLE OF THE INN 
 
 out. He wanted me to go and be a fisher 
 man, but I told him that I knew the hills 
 better than the water and I would stay here. 
 Dost thou look for the coming one ? " 
 
 Joseph bowed. 
 
 "Whither goest thou?" asked the shep 
 herd. "Jerusalem is behind thee." 
 
 "To Bethlehem, to meet the tax, and be 
 enrolled." 
 
 "Ah! The tax! The tax! It is always 
 the tax," exclaimed the shepherd, while the 
 others growled their assent. "Why should 
 they enroll us ! To slay us ? Did not King 
 David try it! And how many men did it 
 cost! Would that we had more like Judas! 
 Art thou of Bethlehem?" he added. 
 
 Yea, of the tribe and lineage of David. 
 Both of us." He glanced around to where 
 the young woman sat. 
 
 The speech evidently made a further im 
 pression on the shepherds. 
 
 "Would that we had another David! 
 That would be better yet!" 
 
 "Aye, aye!" echoed the others. "And 
 he was a shepherd! He would see us 
 
 89 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 righted and not let them carry us off to 
 the war and leave our sheep without a 
 shepherd." 
 
 "But there is no war, now, nor rumor 
 of war," said Joseph, "and the ploughshare 
 is better than the sword and the pruning- 
 hook than the spear." 
 
 "Dost thou know Joachim?" asked the 
 shepherd suddenly. 
 
 "Yea," said Joseph; "well." 
 
 "He was once a shepherd here, fifteen or 
 twenty years ago." 
 
 Joseph listened with interest. 
 
 "It was when the high-priest drove him 
 from the altar because his wife was barren. 
 He came here and lived with me. And tis 
 said his wife knew not where he was and 
 feared him dead. And he prayed always, 
 always, and one night a vision came to him. 
 An angel said to him: Was not Sara long 
 barren? And Rachel? And yet she bore 
 Joseph who was lord of Egypt stronger 
 than Samson and holier than Samuel. And 
 he bade him leave and go to Jerusalem and 
 enter by the Golden Gate. And I have 
 
 90 
 
THE STABLE OF THE INN 
 
 heard that his wife met him there and that 
 she bore him a daughter?" 
 
 "It is true," said Joseph; "she is there." 
 
 The shepherd stopped and gazed long 
 and curiously at the figure on the ground. 
 
 "So!" he murmured. "Zebedee said 
 there was talk of strange things at Naza 
 reth; he said that word had come that 
 again a barren woman had borne a child 
 a woman as old as our mother Sara, and 
 that her husband had seen a vision his 
 name was Zachariah, was it not? Hast 
 thou heard of it?" His voice sank and his 
 eyes sought the traveller s eyes. The other 
 shepherds listened intently. 
 
 The young woman on the ground drew 
 her veil yet closer about her. It was as if a 
 white morning-glory had withdrawn within 
 itself at the approach of evening. 
 
 "I have heard so," said Joseph briefly. 
 
 "Can it be that the time draws nigh?" 
 asked the old shepherd tremblingly. 
 
 "Who knoweth the times and the sea 
 sons?" replied the other, as if to avoid the 
 gaze fixed upon him. 
 
 91 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 "But it is said that a virgin must bear a 
 child, and he shall be called Emmanuel. 
 Can it be ? Does it mean that we are never 
 to see the rising again of Israel?" 
 
 "Is the Lord s arm shortened that it can 
 not save?" replied Joseph quietly. "Or is 
 his ear dulled that he cannot hear? * He 
 turned to where the young woman sat on 
 the ground. 
 
 "But I grow old," said the shepherd. 
 "I had a son once, but the Romans " 
 He broke off. "We have scores to settle." 
 
 "Aye, that we have," came in chorus 
 from the others. 
 
 "Wait on the Lord," said Joseph. The 
 young woman rose from the ground and 
 Joseph lifted her gently to her saddle. 
 
 "Have a care of thy wife," said the shep 
 herd. " She is young and the soldiers 
 
 "I have no fear," said Joseph calmly. 
 
 "They fear not God, nor regard man. 
 To them an Israelite is a dog." 
 
 "We have no fear," said Joseph firmly. 
 
 "The place will be full. There is but 
 one inn, and it will be crowded. They have 
 
 92 
 
THE STABLE OF THE INN 
 
 been passing since sunrise. Clouds of dust 
 on the road all day. We could see it from 
 the hills/ 
 
 The others assented. 
 
 "God will provide for us," said Joseph, 
 as, bidding the shepherd adieu, he turned 
 the ass s head toward the road. 
 
 The shepherds stood and watched them 
 as they moved slowly upward until they 
 were lost in the shadows on the highway, 
 and then turned back to their flocks. What 
 they said, it was, perhaps, well that no 
 soldiers were near to hear; for the older 
 man s words had stirred them deeply, and 
 prophecy after prophecy was recounted 
 pointing to the overthrow of Roman power. 
 
 For nearly two hours the travellers plod 
 ded onward up the mountain. The village 
 on its shoulder above them turned pink, 
 then white as alabaster ; and then the white 
 faded to an icy blue ; once more flushed to a 
 saffron hue, and gradually died until by the 
 time the travellers reached the nearest 
 houses down the slope all was dusk, and 
 with the darkness had come the cold. 
 
 93 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 Once they paused at a turn in the road, and 
 rested while they gazed across the dark 
 valley to the eastward to where some miles 
 away gleamed many lights. "There it is," 
 said Joseph. "There is Jerusalem. The 
 Temple." 
 
 "I have had many happy hours there," 
 said his companion softly. As they moved 
 on, between them and the sky, on a hill be 
 side the road, a cross lifted itself. "Look 
 the other way," said Joseph quickly; but 
 he was too late. The young woman shud 
 dered and bowed her head low. "Some 
 robber, perhaps, but he is dead," explained 
 Joseph. The young woman s only answer 
 was a moan. 
 
 When they arrived at the village itself, 
 they found what the shepherds had said to 
 be true. The village was quite full and the 
 only inn there had no place for them. 
 
 When they reached the gate-way of the 
 entrance court, travellers were being turned 
 away, and a number of them were consult 
 ing together as to whether they should re 
 main in the street all night or should go 
 
 94 
 
THE STABLE OF THE INN 
 
 back toward Jerusalem. The gates would 
 be shut; but they might find a lodging-place 
 in some other village. 
 
 It was dark, for the moon, though nearly 
 full, had not yet risen above the hills, and 
 it was too late to seek shelter elsewhere. 
 Joseph went boldly to the gate and knocked. 
 For some time there was no answer; but he 
 continued to knock. Jeers broke out from 
 the group in the street behind him; but 
 he paid no heed. He kept on knocking. 
 After a while the bar was drawn on the in 
 side, and the porter partly opened the gate. 
 When, however, he saw only a plain man 
 with a woman mounted on an ass, he spoke 
 shortly and told him that there was no 
 room for them in the inn. Joseph made 
 known his situation. His wife could go no 
 farther and could not remain in the street 
 all night. This did not avail. The porter 
 spoke with contempt. "Better than you 
 have been turned away to-night." 
 
 "Than me Yes," said Joseph; "but not 
 better than that I bring." He took from 
 his scrip an official paper and added that 
 he had come "under Caesar s order." 
 
 95 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 "You trouble me much/ growled the 
 porter. But he admitted them, and told 
 Joseph that he might spend the night in 
 the stable if he could find a place there. 
 
 "In the stable!" said Joseph. 
 
 "Yes, and you d better be glad to get 
 that," growled the porter. "The other 
 night we had to put up a man that a dog 
 of a Samaritan had found on the road from 
 Jericho, naked and half dead. He must 
 needs bring him here and order the best 
 room for him. A priest and a Levite were 
 here that night, and a pretty fuss they 
 made too they wanted him put in the 
 stable; but the Samaritan s money was 
 good, so the master took him in." 
 
 Joseph said that he was glad to have the 
 stable, and, leading the ass inside the gate, 
 he followed the direction of the porter. 
 He picked his way carefully across the dim 
 and dirty court, amid the camels and asses 
 crowded therein, and crossed over to the 
 side to which the porter carelessly waved 
 him, where, hollowed in the rock, were the 
 rough caves used as stables for the inn. 
 
 Here in a stall which had, perhaps, been 
 96 
 
THE STABLE OF THE INN 
 
 kept vacant in the hope that some guest of 
 quality might come who would pay for it, 
 and would bring honor to the inn, Joseph 
 placed his wife, using such means as he 
 could to make her comfortable. 
 
 The inn itself was full of life and move 
 ment; lights flared and failed and flared 
 again, as busy servants bustled about at 
 tending to the wants of the numerous guests 
 who ate and drank, sang, danced, and slept 
 as they listed. 
 
 Across the court, where the camels and 
 other cattle ruminated or slumbered, all was 
 dark and still as dark and still as it must 
 have been when darkness was upon the 
 waters before the dawn of the first creation, 
 when God said, "Let there be light/ and 
 there was light. 
 
 Far away, across the sea, on her seven 
 hills, Rome glittered with her myriad lights, 
 innumerable as the stars of heaven, and in 
 his imperial palace ruled Augustus Caesar, 
 master of the world, whose decree had 
 gone out that all the world should be taxed 
 ruled in such splendor that the greatest 
 
 97 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 men of their time proclaimed him a god 
 ruled with such power that a simple car 
 penter in a little town in a far-away province 
 across the seas could not be overlooked and 
 left at home; but must make a long and 
 perilous journey with his wife to be taxed 
 in the city of his fathers, where he was a 
 stranger, and in which when he arrived he 
 was unable to get room in the inn, and was 
 fain to lodge in the inn stables among the 
 cattle, as little considered as they. 
 
 In this journey none but the lowly shep 
 herds in the fields had taken note of them. 
 To them happened a strange thing that 
 night. 
 
 It must have been about midnight. The 
 moon had crept slowly up the sky and 
 flooded the hills with light. The oldest of 
 the shepherds was on watch, while the others 
 slept. Many things revolved in his mind 
 the promises to Abraham and to his seed 
 forever the words of peace that the trav 
 eller from Nazareth had spoken, swept 
 through his memory. He began to dream. 
 And the first thing that struck him was the 
 
 98 
 
THE STABLE OF THE INN 
 
 strange behavior of the sheep in the folds. 
 They rose from the ground and, facing to 
 ward the mountain, knelt as lambs kneel at 
 their mothers sides. But they were all still 
 as still as if carved of stone. And while he 
 wondered, suddenly there stood near him 
 so suddenly that it was as if he had dropped 
 down upon him a presence. He had no 
 time to question it was a light a glory 
 unimaginable brighter than the moon 
 more glorious than the sun like the glory 
 of the Lord. It awoke some of the others. 
 It was round about them, and they were sore 
 afraid. Then a voice sounded in their ears, 
 and the angel said unto them: "Fear not; 
 for behold I bring you good tidings of great 
 joy, which shall be to all people; for unto 
 you is born this day in the city of David, a 
 Saviour, which is Christ the Lord, and this 
 shall be a sign unto you: ye shall find the 
 babe wrapped in swaddling-clothes, lying in 
 a manger." 
 
 Astonished and still terrified stunned 
 beyond thought the shepherds lay as they 
 had been found and, as they told it af- 
 
 99 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 terward, suddenly there was with the angel 
 a multitude of the heavenly host, praising 
 God, and saying, "Glory to God in the 
 Highest, and on earth peace to men of 
 good-will." Then they went away upward 
 up into the heaven and only the shep 
 herds were left on the earth with their 
 flocks. 
 
 When the shepherds recovered their cour 
 age and looked up, the sky was as usual 
 on clear and cloudless nights, and only the 
 moon was shining down, flooding the fields 
 with light. They began to talk in low tones 
 of what they had seen and heard, and to 
 wonder what it all meant. One of the 
 younger men who had not spoken before 
 roused up and complained that they had 
 awakened him. "Thou sleptest soundly, 
 then, thou of Kerioth," they said. But 
 Judas declared that they had disturbed a 
 dream he had. "I dreamt of silver," he 
 said; "a garden like one I know near Jeru 
 salem and a great treasure there a man 
 on his knees and I arrested him and gave 
 him up, and found thirty great pieces of 
 
 100 
 
THE STABLE OF THE INN 
 
 silver. Oh! I felt rich as rich as that 
 Zaccheus men talk of and then you waked 
 me up; I could hang myself." His com 
 panions, however, paid little attention to 
 him. They were too wonder-struck and 
 presently they began to say one to another: 
 "Let us now go even to Bethlehem and see 
 this thing which is come to pass, which the 
 Lord hath made known unto us." 
 
 In a few moments they were ready to 
 start. 
 
 "If we are going," said the leader, "we 
 might as well take with us some milk. We 
 may come across our friends, Joseph and his 
 wife, and they will find it hard to get any 
 thing in that crowded place." He went off, 
 and in a little while came back with a bottle 
 of milk. 
 
 "What is the use of that?" growled the 
 one who had had his dream disturbed. 
 "They will have enough. Better save and 
 sell it, and let me give the money to the 
 poor." 
 
 "Judas, thou art ever prating of giving, 
 yet givest naught," said the man with the 
 bottle of milk. "Come with us." 
 
 101 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 "I am not going," said the man of Keri- 
 oth. "I shall stay and see that no one 
 troubles the sheep." 
 
 "See that thou trouble them not thyself," 
 said one of his fellows, at which the others 
 laughed. 
 
 "Come on," said the leader. And they 
 set forth in haste, followed by the gibes of 
 the one left behind. 
 
 Out in the dusty road they filed, one be 
 hind the other, and by the moonlight began 
 to ascend the winding, rocky road which 
 led up toward the hills above them. Stum 
 bling over the rocks in the dusk with their 
 ill-shod feet; passing the commonplace way 
 farers coming or going with their asses or 
 on foot, it was hard to believe that but now 
 they had seen and heard Heavenly messen 
 gers as Abraham and Jacob and Daniel 
 had seen them. 
 
 "Well, we shall know when we get there. 
 If the babe be there we shall know," said 
 the leader. 
 
 It was near day when they reached the 
 town. They came at length to the gate of 
 the inn. In the twilight of the dawn it 
 
 102 
 
THE STABLE OF THE INN 
 
 was just being opened by the sleepy and 
 gruff porter as they arrived, and he stood 
 in the open gate-way yawning. He heard 
 their inquiry in dull silence. 
 
 He pondered a moment. "What is it ye 
 want?" he asked sullenly. 
 
 "We want to know if two travellers who 
 came here late last night found shelter?" 
 
 "Two travellers? Nearer two hundred. 
 Look at the court-yard. So full that one 
 cannot walk across it. And the house is 
 packed." 
 
 "Two who came late? A man and a 
 young woman he was much older than 
 she she- 
 
 "Oh! aye. Two came late too late 
 
 "What became of them?" 
 
 "There was no place for them in the 
 inn " 
 
 "And you turned them away?" 
 
 "Who said I did? Am I a dog to do 
 that?" 
 
 "What became of them?" 
 
 The porter half turned. 
 
 "Go look in there." He pointed to- 
 103 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 ward the stable. "I gave them shelter there 
 for the young woman and none too soon. 
 There are three of them there now, I judge, 
 from what I heard but now." 
 
 The shepherds gave an exclamation and, 
 passing across the court-yard to the stable, 
 paused at the opening that led into the 
 dusky recess. A woman s voice, low and 
 soft, yet jubilant, was heard. She was 
 speaking in the tone of gladness of a young 
 mother: 
 
 "My soul doth magnify the Lord. And 
 my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour." 
 
 The shepherds approached softly, and 
 there in the manger, wrapped in swaddling- 
 bands, lay the young child. 
 
 It was, then, not a dream. This was the 
 sign unto them. 
 
 "His mercy is on them that fear Him, 
 from generation to generation," crooned the 
 young mother as the shepherds drew near. 
 " He hath put down the mighty from their 
 seats and exalted them of low degree." 
 
 It was the hymn of the poor. 
 
 The shepherds entered softly. The morn- 
 104 
 
It was, then, not a dream. This was the sign unto them 
 
THE STABLE OF THE INN 
 
 ing light stole into the recess and fell on the 
 group, and the shepherds sank to their 
 knees to gaze on the babe in wondering 
 awe. 
 
 So, in the stable began the first worship 
 of Him who came to save the world 
 Christ the Lord. 
 
 That day it was noised abroad that won 
 ders had happened in the city of David, 
 and in the country round about. It reached 
 the ears of the authorities, and an investi 
 gation was made. In the time of the taxing 
 all rumors were looked into. Theudas and 
 Judas were the proof of how serious such 
 rumors might be. But this report was 
 traced to a few poor shepherds who, re 
 turning to the fields from a village, told a 
 strange story of a babe born in a stable 
 and of angels appearing and preaching 
 peace and good-will to all men. No one 
 paid any attention to them at the time. 
 Only Mary, the young mother, kept all 
 these things and pondered them in her heart. 
 
 Caesar Augustus in Rome was celebrating 
 his world-wide peace, and Herod Ascalonita 
 105 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 was too busy with his dreams of power to 
 pay attention to such talk. 
 
 When, however, some months later it re 
 curred and some Eastern travellers brought 
 it again to his attention, with the story of 
 an old prophecy from the Hebrew writings, 
 referring to Bethlehem, Herod disposed of 
 the matter finally by sending soldiers and 
 slaying all the babes born in the village 
 mentioned from two years old and under, 
 including among them, it is said, even one 
 of his own children, who was born there. 
 But by this time, says the sacred record, 
 Joseph, having been warned by God in 
 a dream, had taken the young child and his 
 mother and departed into Egypt. 
 
 106 
 
THE SHEPHERD WHO WATCHED 
 BY NIGHT 
 
 THE place had nothing distinguished or 
 even perhaps distinctive about it except its 
 trees and the tapering spire of a church lift 
 ing above them. It was not unlike a hun 
 dred other places that one sees as one trav 
 els through the country. It called itself a 
 town but it was hardly more than a village. 
 One long street, now paved on both sides, 
 climbed the hill, where the old post-road 
 used to run in from the country on one side 
 and out again on the other, passing a dingy, 
 large house with whitewashed pillars, for 
 merly known as the tavern, but now calling 
 itself "The Inn." This, with two or three 
 built-up cross streets and a short street or 
 two on either side of the main street, consti 
 tuted " the town." A number of good houses, 
 and a few very good indeed, sat back in 
 yards dignified by fine trees. Three or four 
 churches stood on corners, as far apart ap- 
 107 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 parently as possible. Several of them were 
 much newer and fresher painted than the 
 one with the spire and cross; but this was 
 the only old one and was generally spoken of 
 as " The Church," as the rector was meant 
 when the people spoke of "The Preacher." 
 It sat back from the street, and near it, yet 
 more retired, was an old dwelling, also di 
 lapidated, with a wide porch, much decayed, 
 and an out-building or two to the side and 
 a little behind it, one of which was also oc 
 cupied as a dwelling. The former was the 
 rectory and the smaller dwelling was where 
 the old woman lived who took care of the 
 rectory, cleaned up the two rooms which 
 the rector used since his wife s death, and 
 furnished him his meals. It had begun 
 only as a temporary arrangement, but it had 
 seemed to work well enough and had gone 
 on now for years and no one thought of 
 changing it. If an idea of change ever 
 entered the mind of any one, it was only 
 when the old woman s grumbling floated 
 out into the town as to the tramps who 
 would come and whom the preacher would 
 108 
 
SHEPHERD WHO WATCHED BY NIGHT 
 
 try to take care of. Then, indeed, dis 
 cussion would take place as to the utter 
 impracticability of the old preacher and 
 the possibility of getting a younger and 
 liver man in his place. For the rest of the 
 time the people were hopeless. The old 
 preacher was past his prime; no one else 
 wanted him, and they could not turn him 
 out. He was saddled on them for life. 
 They ran simply by the old propulsion ; but 
 the church was going down, they said, and 
 they were helpless. This had been the case 
 for years. And now as the year neared its 
 close it was the same. 
 
 Such was the talk as they finished dress 
 ing the church for Christmas and made 
 their way homeward, the few who still 
 took interest enough to help in this way. 
 They felt sorry for the old man, who had 
 been much in their way during the dressing, 
 but sorrier for themselves. This had been a 
 few days before Christmas and now it was 
 Christmas eve. 
 
 The old rector sat at his table trying to 
 write his Christmas sermon. He was hope- 
 109 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 lessly behindhand with it. The table was 
 drawn up close to the worn stove, but the 
 little bare room was cold, and now and then 
 the old man blew on his ringers to warm 
 them, and pushed his feet closer to the black 
 hearth. Again and again he took up his 
 pen as if to write, and as often laid it down 
 again. The weather was bitter and the coal 
 would not burn. There was little to burn. 
 Before him on the table, amid a litter of 
 other books and papers, lay a worn bible and 
 prayer-book open, and beside them a folded 
 letter on which his eye often rested. Out 
 side, the wind roared, shaking the doors, 
 rattling the windows, and whistling at the 
 key-holes. Now and then the sound of a 
 passing vehicle was borne in on the wind, 
 and at intervals came the voices of boys 
 shouting to each other as they ran by. The 
 old man did not hear the former, but when 
 the boys shouted he listened till they had 
 ceased and his thoughts turned to the past 
 and to the two boys whom God had given 
 him and had then taken back to Himself. 
 His gray face wore a look of deep concern, 
 no 
 
SHEPHERD WHO WATCHED BY NIGHT 
 
 and, indeed, of dejection, and his eye wan 
 dered once more to the folded letter on the 
 table. It was signed "A Friend," and it 
 was this which was responsible for the un 
 written Christmas sermon. It was what 
 the world calls an anonymous letter and, 
 though couched in kindly terms, it had 
 struck a dagger into the old man s heart. 
 And yet he could not but say that in tone 
 and manner it was a kind act. Certainly 
 it had told the truth and if in tearing a veil 
 from his eyes it had stunned him, why 
 should he not face the truth! 
 
 He took up the letter again and reread 
 it, not that he needed to read it, for he knew 
 it by heart. 
 
 He reread it hoping to find some answer 
 to its plain, blunt, true statements, but he 
 found none. It was all true, every word, 
 from the ominous beginning which stated 
 that the writer felt that he had "a clear 
 duty to perform," down to the close when 
 with a protestation of good-will he signed 
 himself the old man s "friend." 
 
 "You must see, unless you are blind," 
 in 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 ran the letter, " that your church is running 
 down, and unless you get out and let the 
 congregation secure a new and younger 
 man, there will soon be no congregation 
 at all left. No men come to church any 
 longer and many women who used to come 
 now stay away. You are a good man, but 
 you are a failure. Your usefulness is past." 
 
 Yes, it was true, he was a failure. His 
 usefulness was past. This was the reason 
 no Christmas things had come this year 
 they wanted to let him know. It pained 
 him to think it, and he sighed. 
 
 "You spend your time fooling about a lot 
 of useless things, visiting people who do 
 not come to church, and you have turned 
 the rectory into a harbor for tramps/ con 
 tinued the anonymous friend. 
 
 "You cannot preach any longer. You 
 are hopelessly behind the times. People 
 nowadays want no more doctrinal points 
 discussed; they want to hear live, up-to- 
 date, practical discourses on the vital prob 
 lems of the day such as the Rev. Dr. 
 
 delivers. His church is full/ This also 
 
 112 
 
SHEPHERD WHO WATCHED BY NIGHT 
 
 was true. He was no longer able to preach. 
 He had felt something of this himself. 
 Now it came home to him like a blow on the 
 head, and a deeper pain was the conviction 
 which, long hovering about his heart, now 
 settled and took definite shape, that he 
 ought to get out. But where could he go? 
 He would have gone long since if he had 
 known where to go. He could not go out 
 and graze like an old horse on the roadside. 
 There was no provision made for those like 
 him. No pensions were provided by his 
 church for old and disabled clergymen and 
 the suggestion made in the letter had no 
 foundation in his case. It ran, "You must 
 or, at least, you should have saved some 
 thing in all this time/ 5 
 
 This sounded almost humorous and a 
 wintry little smile flickered for a moment 
 about the old man s wrinkled mouth. His 
 salary had never been a thousand dollars, and 
 there were so many to give to. Of late, it 
 had been less than two-thirds of this amount 
 and not all of this had been paid. The 
 smile died out and the old man s face grew 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 grave again as he tried to figure out what he 
 could do. He thought of one or two old 
 friends to whom he could write. Possibly, 
 they might know of some country parish that 
 would be willing to take him, though it was 
 a forlorn hope. If he could but hold on till 
 they invited him, it would be easier, for he 
 knew how difficult it was for a clergyman 
 out of a place to get a call. People were so 
 suspicious. Once out, he was lost. 
 
 At the thought, a picture of a little plot 
 amid the trees in the small cemetery on the 
 hill near the town slipped into his mind. 
 Three little slabs stood there above three 
 mounds, one longer than the others. They 
 covered all that was mortal of what he had 
 loved best on earth. The old man sighed 
 and his face in the dim light took on an ex 
 pression very far away. He drifted off into 
 a reverie. Ah, if they had only been left 
 to him, the two boys that God had sent him 
 and had then taken back to Himself, and 
 the good wife who had borne up so bravely 
 till she had sunk by the wayside! If he 
 were only with them ! He used to be rebel- 
 114 
 
SHEPHERD WHO WATCHED BY NIGHT 
 
 lious at the neglect that left the drains so 
 deadly, but that was gone now. He leant 
 forward on his elbows and gradually slipped 
 slowly to his knees. He was on them a long 
 time, and when he tried to rise he was quite 
 stiff; but his face had grown tranquil. He 
 had been in high converse with the blessed 
 of God and his mind had cleared. He had 
 placed everything in God s hands, and He 
 had given him light. He would wait until 
 after Christmas and then he would resign. 
 But he would announce it next day. The 
 flock there should have a new and younger 
 and abler shepherd. This would be glad 
 tidings to them. 
 
 He folded up the letter and put it away. 
 He no longer felt wounded by it. It was 
 of God s ordaining and was to be received 
 as a kindness, a ray of light to show him 
 the path of duty. He drew his paper to 
 ward him and, taking up his pen, began to 
 write rapidly and firmly. The doubt was 
 gone, the way was clear. His text had 
 come to his mind. 
 
 "And there were in the same country, 
 shepherds abiding in the field, keeping 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 watch over their flock by night, and lo, the 
 angel of the Lord came upon them, and the 
 glory of the Lord shone round about them. 
 And they were sore afraid. And the angel 
 said unto them: Fear not, for behold, I 
 bring unto you good tidings of great joy, 
 which shall be to all people. For unto you 
 is born this day in the City of David a 
 Saviour which is Christ the Lord. And 
 this shall be a sign unto you. You shall 
 find the Babe wrapped in swaddling clothes 
 lying in a manger." 
 
 Unfolding the story, he told of the dark 
 ness that had settled over Israel under the 
 Roman sway and the formalism of the Jew 
 ish hierarchy at the time of Christ s coming, 
 drawing from it the lesson that God still 
 had shepherds watching over His flocks in 
 the night to whom He vouchsafed to send 
 His heavenly messengers. On and on he 
 wrote, picturing the divine mission of the 
 Redeemer and His power to save souls, and 
 dwelling on Christmas as the ever-recurrent 
 reminder of "the tender mercy of our God 
 whereby the Day Spring from on High 
 
 hath visited us." 
 
 116 
 
SHEPHERD WHO WATCHED BY NIGHT 
 
 Suddenly he came to a pause. Something 
 troubled him. It flashed over him that 
 he had heard that a woman in the town 
 was very sick and he had intended going to 
 see her. She had had a bad reputation; 
 but he had heard that she had reformed. 
 At any rate she was ill. He paused and de 
 liberated. At the moment the wind rattled 
 the shutters. She did not belong to his 
 flock or, so far as he knew, to any flock, 
 and once when he had stopped her on the 
 street and spoken to her of her evil life, 
 she had insulted him. 
 
 He turned back to his paper, pen in 
 hand; but it was borne in on him that he 
 was writing of watching over the flock by 
 night and here he was neglecting one of 
 his Father s sheep. He laid aside his pen 
 and, rising, took down his old overcoat and 
 hat and stick, lit his lantern, turned down 
 his lamp, and shuffling through the bare, 
 narrow passage, let himself out at the door. 
 
 As he came out on to the little porch 
 to step down to the walk, the wind struck 
 him fiercely and he had some difficulty in 
 117 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 fastening the door with its loose lock; but 
 this done he pushed forward. The black 
 trees swayed and creaked above him in the 
 high night wind, and fine particles of snow 
 stung his withered cheeks. He wondered 
 if the shepherds in the fields ever had such 
 a night as this for their watch. He re 
 membered to have read that snow fell on 
 the mountains of Judaea. 
 
 At length he reached the little house on a 
 back street where he had heard the sick 
 woman lived. A light glimmered dimly in 
 an upper window and his knocking finally 
 brought to the door a woman who looked 
 after her. She was not in a good humor at 
 being disturbed at that hour, for her rest 
 had been much broken of late; but she was 
 civil and invited him in. 
 
 In answer to his question of how her 
 patient was, she replied gloomily: "No bet 
 ter; the doctor says she can t last much 
 longer. Do you want to see her?" she 
 added presently. 
 
 The old rector said he did and she waved 
 toward the stair. "You can walk up." 
 
SHEPHERD WHO WATCHED BY NIGHT 
 
 As they climbed the stair she added : " She 
 said you d come if you knew." The words 
 made the old man warmer. And when she 
 opened the door of the sick room and said, 
 "Here s the preacher, as you said," the 
 faint voice of the invalid murmuring, "I 
 hoped you d come," made him feel yet 
 warmer. 
 
 He was still of some use even in this 
 parish. 
 
 Whatever her face had been in the past, 
 illness and suffering had refined it. He 
 stayed there long, for he found that she 
 needed him. She unburdened herself to 
 him. She was sorry she had been rude to 
 him that time. She had been a sinful 
 woman. She said she had tried of late to 
 live a good life, since that day he had 
 spoken to her, but she now found that she 
 had not. She had wanted to be a believer 
 and she had gone to hear him preach one 
 day after that, but now she did not seem 
 to believe anything. She wanted to repent, 
 but she could not feel. She was in the dark 
 and she feared she was lost. 
 119 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 The old man had taken his seat by her 
 side, and he now held her hand and soothed 
 her tenderly. 
 
 "Once, perhaps," he said doubtfully, 
 "though God only knows that, but cer 
 tainly no longer. Christ died for you. You 
 say you wanted to change, that you tried to 
 ask God s pardon and to live a better life 
 even before you fell ill. Do you think you 
 could want this as much as God wanted it? 
 He put the wish into your heart. Do you 
 think He would now let you remain lost? 
 Why, He sent His Son into the world to seek 
 and to save the lost. He has sent me to 
 you to-night to tell you that He has come 
 to save you. It is not you that can save 
 yourself, but He, and if you feel that it is 
 dark about you, never mind the path is 
 still there. One of the old Fathers has said 
 that God sometimes puts His children to 
 sleep in the dark. He not only forgave the 
 Magdalen for her love of Him, but He 
 vouchsafed to her the first sight of his face 
 after His resurrection." 
 
 "I see," she said simply. 
 
 120 
 
SHEPHERD WHO WATCHED BY NIGHT 
 
 A little later she dozed off, but presently 
 roused up again. A bell was ringing some 
 where in the distance. It was the ushering 
 in of the Christmas morn. 
 
 "What is that?" she asked feebly. 
 
 He told her. 
 
 "I think if I were well, if I could ever 
 be good enough, I should like to join the 
 church," she said. "I remember being bap 
 tized long ago." 
 
 You have joined it," he replied. 
 
 Just then the nurse brought her a glass. 
 
 "What is that?" she asked feebly. 
 
 "A little wine." She held up a bottle in 
 which a small quantity remained. 
 
 It seemed to the old preacher a sort of 
 answer to his thought. "Have you bread 
 here?" he asked the young woman. She 
 went out and a moment later brought him a 
 piece of bread. 
 
 He had often administered the early com 
 munion on Christmas morning, but never 
 remembered a celebration that had seemed 
 to him so real and satisfying. As he thought 
 of the saints departed this life in the faith 
 
 121 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 and fear of the Lord, they appeared to throng 
 about him as never before, and among them 
 were the faces he had known and loved best 
 on earth. 
 
 It was toward morning when he left. As 
 he bade her good-by he knew he should see 
 her no more this side of heaven. 
 
 As he came out into the night the snow 
 was falling softly, but the wind had died 
 down and he no longer felt cold. The street 
 was empty, but he no longer felt lonely. He 
 seemed to have got nearer to God s throne. 
 
 Suddenly, as he neared his house, a sound 
 fell on his ears. He stopped short and 
 listened. Could he have been mistaken? 
 Could that have been a baby s cry? There 
 was no dwelling near but his own, and on 
 that side only the old and unoccupied stable 
 in the yard whence the sound had seemed to 
 come. A glance at it showed that it was 
 dark and he was moving on again to the 
 house when the sound was repeated. This 
 time there was no doubt of it. A baby s 
 wail came clear on the silence of the night 
 from the unused stable. A thought that it 
 
 122 
 
SHEPHERD WHO WATCHED BY NIGHT 
 
 might be some poor foundling flashed into 
 his mind. The old man turned and, stum 
 bling across the yard, went to the door. 
 
 "Who is here?" he asked of the dark. 
 There was no answer, but the child wailed 
 again, and he entered the dark building, 
 asking again, "Who is here?" as he groped 
 his way forward. This time a voice almost 
 inarticulate answered. Holding his dim 
 little lantern above his head, he made his 
 way inside, peering into the darkness, and 
 presently, in a stall, on a lot of old litter, he 
 descried a dark and shapeless mass from 
 which the sound came. Moving forward, 
 he bent down, with the lantern held low, 
 and the dark mass gradually took shape as 
 a woman s form seated on the straw. A 
 patch of white, from which a pair of eyes 
 gazed up at him, became a face, and below, 
 a small bundle clasped to her breast took on 
 the lines of a babe. 
 
 "What are you doing here?" he asked, 
 
 breathless with astonishment. She shook 
 
 her head wearily and her lips moved as if 
 
 to say: "I didn t mean any harm." But no 
 
 123 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 sound came. She only tried to fold the 
 babe more warmly in her shawl. He took 
 off his overcoat and wrapped it around her. 
 "Come," he said firmly. You must come 
 with me," he added kindly; then, as she did 
 not rise, he put out his hand to lift her, but, 
 instead, suddenly set down the lantern and 
 took the babe gently in his arms. She let 
 him take the child, and rose slowly, her eyes 
 still on him. He motioned for her to take 
 the lantern and she did so. And they came 
 to the door. He turned up the walk, the 
 babe in his arms, and she going before him 
 with the lantern. The ground was softly 
 carpeted with snow; the wind had died 
 down, but the clouds had disappeared and 
 the trees were all white, softly gleaming, like 
 dream-trees in a dreamland. The old man 
 shivered slightly, but not now with cold. 
 He felt as if he had gone back and held once 
 more in his arms one of those babes he 
 had given back to God. He thought of 
 the shepherds who watched by night on the 
 Judaean hills. "It must have been such 
 a night as this," he thought, as his eyes 
 124 
 
"What are you doing here?" he asked 
 
SHEPHERD WHO WATCHED BY NIGHT 
 
 caught the morning star which appeared to 
 rest just over his home. 
 
 When they reached his door he saw that 
 some one had been there in his absence. A 
 large box stood on the little porch and beside 
 it a basket filled with things. So he had not 
 been forgotten after all. The milkman also 
 had called and for his customary small bot 
 tle of milk had left one of double the usual 
 size. When he let himself in at the door, 
 he took the milk with him. So the shep 
 herds might have done, he thought. 
 
 It was long before he could get the fire to 
 burn; but in time this was done; the room 
 was warm and the milk was warmed also. 
 The baby was quieted and was soon asleep 
 in its mother s lap, where she sat still 
 hooded, before the stove. And as the fire 
 light fell from the open stove on the child, 
 in its mother s arms, the old man thought of 
 a little picture he had once seen in a shop 
 window. He had wanted to buy it, but he 
 had never felt that he could gratify such a 
 taste. There were too many calls on him. 
 Then, as the young woman appeared over- 
 125 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 come with fatigue, the old man put her with 
 the child in the only bed in the house that 
 was ready for an occupant and, returning to 
 the little living-room, ensconced himself in 
 his arm-chair by the stove. He had meant 
 to finish his sermon, but he was conscious for 
 the first time that he was very tired; but 
 he was also very happy. When he awoke 
 he found that it was quite late. He had 
 overslept and though his breakfast had been 
 set out for him, he had time only to make 
 his toilet and to go to church. The mother 
 and child were still asleep in his room, the 
 babe folded in her arm, and he stopped 
 only to gaze on them a moment and to set 
 the rest of the milk and his breakfast where 
 the young mother could find it on awaking. 
 Then he went to church, taking his half- 
 finished sermon in his worn case. He 
 thought with some dismay that it was un 
 finished, but the memory of the poor woman 
 and the midnight communion, and of the 
 young mother and her babe, comforted him ; 
 so he plodded on bravely. When he reached 
 the church it was nearly full. He had not 
 126 
 
SHEPHERD WHO WATCHED BY NIGHT 
 
 had such a congregation in a long time. 
 And they were all cheerful and happy. 
 The pang he had had as he remembered 
 that he was to announce his resignation that 
 day was renewed, but only for a second. 
 The thought of the babe and its mother, 
 warmed and fed in his little home, drove it 
 away. And soon he began the service. 
 
 He had never had such a service. It all 
 appeared to him to have a new meaning. 
 He felt nearer to the people in the pews than 
 he ever remembered to have felt. They 
 were more than ever his flock and he more 
 than ever their shepherd. More, he felt 
 nearer to mankind, and yet more near to 
 those who had gone before the innumer 
 able company of the redeemed. They were 
 all about him, clad all in white, glistening 
 like the sun. The heavens seemed full of 
 them. When he turned his eyes to the win 
 dow, the whole earth seemed white with 
 them. The singing sounded in his ears like 
 the choiring of angels. He was now in a 
 maze. He forgot the notice he had meant 
 to give and went straight into his sermon, 
 127 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 stumbling a little as he climbed the steps to 
 the pulpit. He repeated the text and kept 
 straight on. He told the story of the shep 
 herds in the fields watching their flocks 
 when the Angel of the Lord came upon them 
 and told of the Babe in the manger who was 
 Christ the Lord. He spoke for the shep 
 herds. He pictured the shepherds watch 
 ing through the night and made a plea for 
 their loneliness and the hardship of their 
 lives. They were very poor and ignorant. 
 But they had to watch the flock and God 
 had chosen them to be His messengers. 
 The wise men would come later, but now 
 it was the shepherds who first knew of the 
 birth of Christ the Lord. He was not read 
 ing as was his wont. It was all out of his 
 heart and the eyes of all seemed to be on 
 him of all in pews and of all that innumer 
 able white-clad host about him. 
 
 He was not altogether coherent, for he at 
 times appeared to confuse himself with the 
 shepherds. He spoke as if the message had 
 come to him, and after a while he talked of 
 some experiences he had had in finding a 
 128 
 
SHEPHERD WHO WATCHED BY NIGHT 
 
 child in a stable. He spoke as though he 
 had really seen it. "And now," he said, 
 " this old shepherd must leave his flock, the 
 message has come for him." 
 
 He paused and looked down at his sermon 
 and turned the leaves slowly, at first care 
 fully and then almost aimlessly. A breath 
 of wind blew in and a few leaves slid off the 
 desk and fluttered down to the floor. 
 
 "I have been in some fear lately," he said, 
 "but God has appeared to make the way 
 plain. A friend has helped me, and I 
 thank him." He looked around and lost 
 himself. "I seem to have come to the 
 end," he said, smiling simply with a soft, 
 childish expression stealing over and lighting 
 up his wan face. "I had something more I 
 wanted to say, but I can t find it and I 
 can t remember. I seem too tired to re 
 member it. I am a very old man and you 
 must bear with me, please, while I try." He 
 quietly turned and walked down the steps, 
 holding on to the railing. 
 
 As he stooped to pick up a loose sheet 
 from the floor, he sank to his knees, but 
 129 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 he picked it up. "Here it is," he said 
 with a tone of relief. "I remember now. 
 It is that there were shepherds abiding in 
 the fields, keeping watch over their flocks 
 by night, and the light came upon them 
 and the glory of the Lord shone round 
 about them and they were sore afraid, and 
 the angel said unto them: Fear not, for 
 behold, I bring unto you good tidings of 
 great joy which shall be unto all people; 
 for unto you is born this day in the city 
 of David a Saviour which is Christ the 
 Lord/" 
 
 They reached him as he sank down and, 
 lifting him, placed him on a cushion taken 
 from a pew. He was babbling softly of a 
 babe in a stable and of the glory of the 
 Lord that shone round about them. " Don t 
 you hear them singing?" he said. "You 
 must sing too; we must all join them." 
 
 At the suggestion of some one, a woman s 
 clear voice struck up, 
 
 "While shepherds watched their flocks by night," 
 130 
 
SHEPHERD WHO WATCHED BY NIGHT 
 
 and they sang it through as well as they 
 could for sobbing. But before the hymn 
 was ended the old shepherd had joined the 
 heavenly choir and had gone away up into 
 heaven. 
 
 As they laid him in the little chamber on 
 the hill opening to the sunrise, the look on 
 his face showed that the name of that cham 
 ber was Peace. 
 
 They talk of him still in his old parish 
 of the good he did, and of his peaceful death 
 on the day that of all the year signified 
 Birth and Life. 
 
 Nothing was ever known of the mother 
 and babe. Only there was a rumor that 
 one had been seen leaving the house dur 
 ing the morning and passing out into the 
 white-clad country. And at the little inn 
 in the town there was vague wonder what 
 had become of the woman and her baby 
 who had applied for shelter there the night 
 before and had been told that there was no 
 place for her there, and that she had better 
 go to the old preacher, as he took in all the 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 tramps. But in heaven it is known that 
 there was that Christmas eve a shepherd 
 who kept watch over his flock by night. 
 
 132 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 WE had fallen to talking of religion, my 
 friend, Abner Hood and I, as to which my 
 friend had rather advanced views hold 
 ing that religion was progressive as well as 
 civilization. He had relapsed into a rev 
 erie, from which he suddenly emerged with 
 a gesture of decision : 
 
 "I had an experience once which I think 
 had a decided influence on my views. I got 
 a glimpse of the stern reality of Puritanism, 
 whose shadow I had always felt, even in the 
 West, where men are free." 
 
 He was satisfied with my interest, and 
 proceeded : 
 
 My people came from W. (he mentioned 
 a small town in New England), w 7 hich had 
 been a centre of the theocratic oligarchy 
 which spread its steely tenets over New 
 England and ruled it with a rod of iron. 
 My grandfather moved first to Philadelphia 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 and then on to the Ohio River, to what was 
 then known as the Far West, but is really 
 only on the inner fringe of the Eastern sea 
 board. When he died my father had 
 enough to do to bring up a growing family, 
 all girls but myself, and we never heard 
 much of our relatives back in the East. In 
 fact, in those times I think the West rather 
 prided itself on being independent of the 
 East. A man who talked about his an 
 cestry was put down as a poor specimen. 
 It was only after the war, when the tide of 
 foreign immigration swept in, that we began 
 to value our ancestry, to talk of our con 
 nections back in the East, and boasted of 
 being the old original Americans. 
 
 My father was killed in the war, in which 
 I had also taken part, having run off from 
 home to join the army, and when I reached 
 home I was the only man of my name whom 
 I knew, and I began to feel rather lonely. 
 I accordingly decided one autumn to avail 
 myself of the chance offered by a business 
 trip to New York, to run on and take a 
 look at the old home of the family in W. 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 and see if any members of the clan still sur 
 vived. I conjectured that they had all long 
 since disappeared. The only one I had ever 
 heard anything of was an old great-uncle, 
 about whom some mystery appeared to 
 hang; but as he was my grandfather s eldest 
 brother I imagined that he must have died 
 long ago. My grandmother rarely spoke 
 of him, and then with a lowered voice in a 
 tone of severe moral reprobation, as "an 
 unbeliever." It was clear that he was, 
 when living, the black sheep of the flock, 
 and the fact that we had not been bene 
 ficiaries in his will had not contributed to 
 lighten his color. He had not cared for his 
 own family, and was worse than an infidel. 
 I arrived at W. one crystal October after 
 noon, just the sort of an afternoon I had 
 pictured as New England fall weather, with 
 the Tyrian dyes of autumn flung all over 
 forest and pasture, and the leaves on the 
 ground like dappled sunlight. And, find 
 ing my somewhat breezy Western way re 
 ceived with stolid coldness and staring sur 
 prise, by those I first accosted, I soon laid it 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 aside for occidental use, and drew myself 
 into a shell which I suddenly discovered 
 somewhere handy about me for my encase 
 ment. As I descended from the jerky train 
 at the tidy little station on the outskirts of 
 the rambling village among the hills, I found 
 myself eyed by the two or three persons 
 about the platform, with an expression 
 which was certainly not sympathetic, and, 
 if it contained any hint of interest, it was 
 close akin to mere speculation. 
 
 I inquired of the first person I came to 
 a thin, dust-colored man, with a slightly 
 grizzled mustache, who appeared busy 
 about small things where I could find the 
 hotel. His only reply was a call: 
 
 "Sam, here s a man wants to go to 
 Simpson s." 
 
 A voice sounded from somewhere: "A-all 
 ri-ight," and an ancient vehicle, which I 
 later learned was known as the "Old Ship 
 of Sion," because "she had carried many 
 thousands," and "would carry many more," 
 hove slowly in sight from behind the station, 
 piloted by a stout individual with a dyed 
 136 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 mustache of some weeks standing. I got in 
 with my bag, which suddenly appeared to 
 me twice as heavy as usual, and we drove 
 slowly off in the direction of the cluster of 
 houses I had seen among the big trees in 
 the distance, with a solid-looking brown 
 church shouldered out from among them. 
 
 We passed a number of newish houses, 
 white or yellow or brown, hugging the road 
 side, and reaching out with modern enter 
 prise toward the railway station; but soon 
 passed beyond them into a broad, curving 
 avenue bordered by great elms, interspersed 
 with ash, sugar-maples, and oaks, golden 
 or scarlet from the autumn nights. Be 
 hind these were houses of a wholly differ 
 ent type, some built on the street line, some 
 set back in yards; but all with harmonious 
 proportions, ornamental door-ways and cor 
 nices and dormer windows, bearing a sort of 
 resemblance, as of members of a family 
 grown old together, and still preserving 
 their air of distinction. Some had wings, 
 with porticos; some had none; but all had 
 certain features distinctly alike. A few 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 children were seriously playing about in the 
 walk-way, but most of those I saw were 
 joylessly raking up the leaves. We passed 
 the church, which stood in an open space 
 by itself. It was the only building without 
 trees about it, and its bareness appeared to 
 give it a certain air of being set apart; but 
 this may have been due to its square and 
 block-like proportions and its thick, heavy 
 spire, with a great white clock-face in its 
 front, on which in huge black characters 
 was painted the stern warning: "Memento 
 Mori." 
 
 I had soon got to talking with my driver, 
 who, while a dry and brief-spoken person, 
 appeared to be something of a philosopher, 
 and possibly, even, of a humorist. My first 
 inquiry as to the hotel received a prompt 
 response. 
 
 "Pete s? Oh! I guess he ll take you in. 
 He s taken in a good might before." 
 
 As this was enigmatical, I inquired about 
 the fare. 
 
 "Oh! it s purty fair. They ain t been no 
 manna rained down not lately and I 
 138 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 ain t heard of no quails bein blown this 
 way exactly not this season; but if you ve 
 got good teeth I guess you can sustain 
 life." 
 
 About this time he apparently decided to 
 ask me a few questions. 
 
 "Travellin man?" 
 
 "Well, no not exactly." 
 
 After a pause : 
 
 "Lookin for horses?" 
 
 "No, not exactly." 
 
 "Lookin for land?" 
 
 "No, not exactly." 
 
 A longer pause. Then: 
 
 "Well, exactly, what air you a-lookin* 
 fur?" 
 
 I thought this a propitious time to elicit 
 some information, so I said : 
 
 "Well, exactly, I came to see somebody 
 by the name of Hood, or, failing him, some 
 body who might be related to the old family 
 of that name who used to live here. Is 
 there anybody of the name living here 
 now?" 
 
 "Yep guess there is, unless old Ab s 
 139 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 passed away as he s lived, without askin 
 anybody s edvice or leave." 
 
 " Old Ab ? who s he?" 
 
 "Just old Ab so old Abner Hood t 
 lives in the old house on the hill, like an owl 
 in his tree, and don t see nobody from year s 
 en to year s end." 
 
 "Why, how does he live? How old is 
 he?" I asked in one breath. 
 
 He answered the latter question first. 
 
 "If he s as old as they say he looks, he 
 must be nigh on a hundred. I guess from 
 what I ve heard that he s in and about 
 ninety year." 
 
 "Didn t you ever see him?" 
 
 "Yep when I was a lad I see him often 
 when we boys used to go up the hill for 
 chestnuts and peeked at him of a evenin . 
 I guess it s twenty year since I las seen 
 him." 
 
 I was now much interested. He might 
 be my great-uncle. 
 
 "What was he doing? Is he an invalid?" 
 
 "Just perambulatin up and down. No, 
 I don t know as he is. He s got a man 
 140 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 there as looks after him, named Simon 
 Morse, and I see him last year once or 
 twice." 
 
 "Is he mad? the old man, I mean." 
 
 "Not as I knows on least, no madder 
 than he s been this sixty year, since he first 
 shut himself up and said, "Farewell, vain 
 worlV" 
 
 "Well, what s the matter with him?" 
 
 "We-a-11 they say he had a blight I 
 don know, but he certainly had some- 
 thin ." 
 
 "<A blight? " 
 
 "Was disapp inted in his affections. 
 Well, he s disapp inted a good many since." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "By holdin on. There s some several 
 been waitin for him to git out; but he ll see 
 em through yet, if his old house don t fall 
 down on him one o these here windy 
 nights. And they ll never git a cent, any 
 ways." 
 
 "Who are "they ? What are their names, 
 and what relation are they to him?" I 
 asked. 
 
 141 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 "The Kinsies and the Wynnses. I 
 don t rightly know how nigh they be 
 some the older he gits, the nigher they 
 gits. But they needn t/ he chuckled; 
 "he ll never have nothin to do with em 
 in this worl , nor the next, if he can help it." 
 
 "Well, tell me, what sort of house does he 
 live in ? " I had determined to seek him out, 
 if possible. 
 
 "Oh! It was once a fine house the big 
 gest abaout here they called it The Hall 
 onct but it s purty well tumbled down 
 now. You have to look for it to find it 
 among the trees, and but for it s bein so 
 high up the hill you couldn find it at all. 
 They say the bushes grow up through the 
 porch. You see, he s somethin of what 
 you might call a re-cluse." 
 
 It did look so. 
 
 I dropped my bag at Simpson s hotel, 
 an uninviting-looking inn; and slipped out 
 without registering, making some excuse 
 about "a walk before dark." 
 
 I determined not to seek out the other 
 relatives who were more distant, of whom 
 142 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 my friend had told me; but to slip up un 
 observed if I could, and go boldly and try 
 to see my old uncle. So, having succeeded 
 in getting away, so far as I could tell, with 
 out anybody s suspecting my destination, I 
 made my way in the direction my friend 
 had indicated, and soon recognized the 
 house he had described, on the middle slope 
 of a long wooded hill which commanded the 
 village. It was at sight the retreat of a re 
 cluse. The road which had once led up to 
 it from "the street," as the high-road was 
 called, had been walled up and planted in 
 shrubbery, now grown to trees. The en 
 trance to "the grounds," where there had 
 once been stone pillars and an iron gate of 
 some pretension, was now situated in a tan 
 gled wild, the pillars dilapidated, and the 
 gate buried a foot in the soil. Within, the 
 grounds had become a wilderness, where the 
 trees grew thick, and the tangled shrubbery 
 filled the intervening spaces in an impen 
 etrable jungle. 
 
 I had expected, after my guide s account, 
 to find some obstructions in my way, but 
 nothing comparable to this inextricable tan- 
 143 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 gle. But, after reconnoitring sedulously the 
 surroundings of the front of the grounds, 
 I skirted the place and, making my way up 
 along the side through the wood, "fetched a 
 compass," and, climbing a rotten wall, 
 struck into the bosom of the wilderness as 
 boldly as my beating heart would allow. 
 It happened that my easiest line of approach 
 led me through trees and shrubbery to a 
 point at the back of the house, which faced 
 somewhat to the west. As I emerged I 
 found a tumble-down stable and barns once 
 extensive, and a stretch of open ground at 
 the back, flooded by the light of the declin 
 ing sun a sort of lawn between the thick 
 ets which screened it on the sides, and be 
 yond it a pathway and a sort of track up 
 into the wood above. 
 
 But what arrested my attention more 
 than all the rest was the figure of an old 
 man, tall and spare, with long white hair on 
 his shoulders, walking slowly up and down 
 on the grass plot, an old hat slanted over his 
 eyes, his hands behind his back. He was 
 clad in a long frock-coat with a high collar, 
 and a stock about his throat gave him the 
 144 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 appearance of a past age, such as I had seen 
 in pictures, but never in life. 
 
 Taking courage of my fears, I at length 
 stepped forward and advanced across the 
 open space, toward a point where I might in 
 tercept him at his next turn. He turned as 
 I expected, and, looking up, caught sight of 
 me. He stopped short. His figure straight 
 ened, and he wheeled abruptly, and, with 
 a step of such unexpected firmness that 
 it appeared like a stride, he gained the 
 small porch which led to the back door 
 of the mansion. I thought he had es 
 caped me; but I kept on steadily, and, 
 with his hand on the knob, he suddenly 
 turned, and, apparently reconsidering his in 
 tention, took a step forward and awaited 
 my approach, his whole countenance and 
 figure expressive of resentment. Deter 
 mined, if possible, to conciliate him, I lifted 
 my hat and accosted him respectfully: 
 
 "Good-evening, sir." 
 
 " How do you do ? What do you want ? " 
 he demanded, sternly. 
 
 " I have called to pay my respects to you, 
 145 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 sir, as the head of our house." I spoke very 
 deferentially, observing him closely as he 
 also was observing me. 
 
 "Who may you be? And where do you 
 come from?" he demanded, but little pla 
 cated. 
 
 "I come from the West from the State 
 of , and my name is Abner Hood/ 
 
 "Abner Hood! How did you come by 
 that name? And by what right do you 
 invade my retirement?" 
 
 "I come by it honestly," I said, smiling a 
 little, "and I have taken the liberty of in 
 truding on you because I wanted to know 
 you." 
 
 "Why should you wish to know me?" 
 His eye was suspicious and his tone was 
 cold. 
 
 "Because I have your brother s blood in 
 my veins " I began, but he interrupted 
 me. 
 
 "Cain had the blood of Abel s parents in 
 
 his veins, the theologians say, but I am not 
 
 aware that that proved affection. David 
 
 and Joab had common blood in their veins, 
 
 146 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 but the former s last message to his son was 
 to slay Joab, and he slew him at the altar. 
 It has not been my experience that com 
 mon blood proves affection, and I have 
 had longer experience of life than you, 
 young man." 
 
 I thought that his talking so much was a 
 propitious sign, and his manner had relaxed 
 a little, though his words were still hostile; 
 so I said: 
 
 "I assure you, sir, that I am neither Cain 
 nor Abel only Abner who, if I recollect 
 aright, had more cause to complain of Joab 
 than Joab of him." 
 
 The old fellow gave a grunt. 
 
 "I see that you still know something of 
 the Bible." But his manner softened. 
 And I continued: 
 
 "I assure you that I want nothing from 
 you, but to know you and pay my respects 
 to you as one of your younger kinsmen 
 possibly your nearest." 
 
 "I have no near kinsmen," he interrupted 
 shortly. "Those I had I found a little less 
 than kin and a good deal less than kind." 
 147 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 "I know nothing of that. I have never 
 done you any wrong, except to intrude to 
 day, as you say, on your privacy, and I ask 
 your pardon for that, in consideration of my 
 real desire to meet you and be friends with 
 the only male relative I have in the world." 
 
 Again he gave me one of those shrewd 
 glances, after which he appeared to be con 
 sidering. And I stood waiting, conjecturing 
 what his reply would be to my appeal. 
 
 "Whose son did you say you were?" he 
 asked at length. I told him my father s 
 name, and that of his father: "Jedediah 
 Hood." 
 
 "Jed s grandson, eh!" he muttered, and 
 looked me over from under his bushy eye 
 brows. "Why didn t they name you after 
 him? Didn t like the name, I guess; means 
 Beloved of the Lord/" 
 
 "No, sir, I don t think that was the rea 
 son. They preferred yours." 
 
 "Eh?" 
 
 I almost thought I had lost my chance, 
 he remained so long in reflection. He, how 
 ever, decided in my favor. 
 148 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 "Wait a moment." He opened the door 
 and went into the house, closing and locking 
 the door behind him, with a loud grating of 
 the key in the huge old lock. Again I felt 
 that my visit had been in vain. A moment 
 later, however, I heard his voice calling 
 some one, and in a little while the key 
 turned in the lock again, the door opened, 
 and I was invited in. 
 
 The entrance was a narrow back hall, 
 which was closed at the far end by a door 
 which I later found admitted one into a 
 somewhat spacious front hall, from which a 
 pretty, colonial stairway led up to the floor 
 above. We did not, however, now pass the 
 further door, but turned off from the first 
 hall by a little passage, past what was evi 
 dently the kitchen, and with another turn 
 entered a sitting and living room in the back 
 of one of the wings. The furniture in it was 
 meagre, and was old and worn; but it had 
 once been handsome. The large arm-chair, 
 beside the table near one of the windows, 
 was, like the table, of carved mahogany now 
 black with age, and it had once been covered 
 
 149 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 with red velvet, though only portions of the 
 upholstery now remained; and the seat was 
 now filled with old papers flattened on the 
 broken, crooked springs. A few time-faded 
 prints hung on the walls, among them por 
 traits of Washington, Jefferson, Franklin, 
 Samuel Adams, and James Otis; also an old- 
 fashioned allegorical tree of many roots and 
 branches, representing the Tree of Knowl 
 edge, with a serpent curled about its stem, 
 and the Virtues and Vices the latter in 
 somewhat undue proportion springing 
 therefrom. There were many books, gen 
 erally old, in a bookcase with a glass front, 
 and lying about on chairs, or piled on the 
 boxes in the corners. On the table lay a 
 large old Bible worn to tatters. An old 
 flint-lock musket, with a powder-horn tied 
 to it, hung on the wall, and a rapier or dress- 
 sword and a sabre were crossed below them. 
 I was offered the arm-chair, but, of course, 
 took another one the only other in the 
 room. 
 
 As soon as we entered the house the old 
 man became the host, and treated me with a 
 150 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 graciousness wholly different from his for 
 mer manner, into which he only relapsed 
 occasionally when reference was made to 
 his past. 
 
 After his apology for bringing me into 
 such an untidy apartment, which he ex 
 plained by saying, "Old age has few wants, 
 and warmth and quietude are chief among 
 them," he began to ask me a few questions 
 as to my family; but he was rarely inter 
 ested enough in my replies to make any 
 comment on them. Once he said: 
 
 "Did your father ever tell you why he 
 went West?" 
 
 I knew he meant my grandfather, of 
 course; but I replied: 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 He gave a short grunt. 
 
 "We quarrelled." 
 
 "I am sorry for that, sir. I never heard 
 it." 
 
 "No, we Hoods were always close- 
 mouthed." 
 
 After wondering what the cause of the 
 quarrel was, and giving him a chance to 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 cast light on it, I ventured to ask him what 
 it was about. 
 
 "About Religion. Bigotry, cupidity, and 
 brutality are the three chief causes of dis 
 sension. All have their sources in selfish 
 
 ness/ 5 
 
 "Well, there isn t religion enough to 
 quarrel about now," I said. It was the first 
 thing I had said which appeared to please 
 him. 
 
 "Quite true," he observed. "As far as I 
 can judge for I never go out you are 
 quite right. It is perishing out of the earth 
 slain in the revolt against superstition and 
 bigotry. 
 
 "What church do you belong to?" he 
 suddenly demanded. I told him that I had 
 never united myself with any church, be 
 cause I did not think myself good enough to 
 do so; but had always looked forward to 
 joining my mother s church, which was the 
 old Established Church. 
 
 "Well, I should think you were quite 
 good enough to join that church now," he 
 said, with a faint gleam of humor in his 
 152 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 deep eyes. "You cannot be a very wise 
 
 man." 
 
 "How is that ?" 
 
 "Why, as you are, you are among those 
 judged but if you joined the church, you 
 would be among the judges." 
 
 Wishing to get off the subject of religion, 
 which appeared to engross his thoughts, 
 and to learn something of his history, I grew 
 bolder. 
 
 "Why did you never marry?" I asked 
 him suddenly. A change came over his 
 face his whole person, I might say. A 
 flash came into his eye, and his form stif 
 fened. I felt that I had made a mistake, 
 and was about to try to rectify it, when he 
 said: 
 
 "Did they never tell you?" 
 
 "No, sir, not a word." 
 
 "Well, I will, if you have the patience 
 to listen. Because I was fool enough to be 
 honest and others could not bear the 
 truth." 
 
 I assured him that I was deeply inter 
 ested, and he told me his curious story. 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 "I was your father s elder brother" (he 
 always spoke of my grandfather as my 
 father) "and as such I came into possession 
 of this estate on my father s death, your 
 father receiving his portion in money and 
 other property, which I dare say he soon 
 squandered in riotous living, for he was al 
 ways inclined to be wild and light, while I, 
 on the other hand, was sober, frugal, re 
 flective, and earnest. As the property was 
 an ample one more than ample I deter 
 mined to secure a helpmate; but I had a high 
 ideal. I was ambitious to preserve an an 
 cient and honorable name, and I was very 
 proud proud of my position, proud of my 
 intellect, proud of my knowledge. My 
 opening mind had discovered that this little 
 corner of the world was a very small and nar 
 row corner, and that men had been shackled 
 by others in a slavery worse than African 
 slavery the slavery of the mind but, hav 
 ing been born in this slavery, I had not initi 
 ative to break my bonds and declare my 
 freedom. I was the slave of John Calvin 
 and his offspring, and, while I could not at 
 
I assured him that I was deeply interested, and he told me 
 his curious story 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 heart subscribe to his frightful tenets, I 
 lived bound to the stake he had planted, and 
 tortured by the perpetual fires he had 
 kindled, and which the iron-divines of Pre- 
 destinary doctrine had blown through each 
 succeeding generation. What your father 
 and others like him took lightly, I shrivelled 
 before, and at one time I even thought of 
 adopting the ministry as a means of salva 
 tion, not for others, but for my miserable 
 self. 
 
 "I was saved from this by meeting and 
 becoming enamoured of a young woman, the 
 daughter of one of our leading elders, him 
 self a stern and unbending believer, who 
 would sooner have been damned himself 
 than not have believed that others would be 
 damned. She had been absent at an acad 
 emy while I was at college, and about the 
 time of my return home to assume my du 
 ties as my father s successor, I met her, for 
 the first time in years. I had known her in 
 her pretty childhood as a wild young hoiden 
 with gazelle-like eyes. But she had fallen 
 under the spell. She had ripened into all 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 that her childhood had promised and 
 more only she had become demure and 
 serious-minded beyond anything that could 
 have been believed. Her sobriety, however, 
 simply added to her charms, in my then 
 state of mind, and I fell desperately in love 
 with her, and had the happiness to have my 
 passion returned. Gifted with intellect far 
 beyond the majority of her sex, she inspired 
 me to study and opened up to me new vistas 
 of thought. We read much together, and, 
 as Theology was the chief subject in those 
 days, we studied it together, but, while the 
 more we read the stronger grew her belief, 
 the stronger grew my doubts doubts which 
 I hesitated to tell her of, for fear of impart 
 ing them to her and causing her some of the 
 unhappiness I was experiencing. 
 
 "Wishing to see something of the outside 
 world before settling down, and also desiring 
 to add to the furnishing of my home in a 
 manner suitable to my means, and thus tes 
 tify my devotion to her, for she was poor, 
 I determined to visit New York. In those 
 days we travelled much of the way in stage- 
 156 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 coaches, and I spent a number of days in 
 company with a fellow-passenger who made 
 a deep impression on me. He was a divine 
 so different from any one that I had ever 
 hitherto been thrown with, that he at once 
 gained both my confidence and my affection. 
 He was a youngish man, with a gentle, re 
 fined face and burning eyes such as I never 
 saw equalled. I was first attracted to him 
 by his tenderness to a bereaved mother who 
 happened to be a fellow-passenger with us 
 in the earlier stages of the journey, and who 
 was in her first paroxysm of desolation over 
 the death of her only child. His sympathy 
 drew from her not only an account of her 
 bereavement, but the secret of her incon 
 solable anguish. A preacher to whom she 
 had applied for consolation had told her 
 that there were infants in hell a span long, 
 predestined to damnation/ and in her agony 
 she had conceived the idea that her child 
 might be among them. Her reason had be 
 come almost dethroned. 
 
 " Madam, said our clergyman, "the man 
 who told you that was not only a brute and 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 an idiot, but was a blasphemous brute and 
 idiot. That man was not teaching from 
 the gospel of Jesus Christ who likened the 
 kingdom of heaven to a little child but 
 from his own hardened heart/ And then 
 he began to expound to her I ask his par 
 don in heaven, where he now is I mean he 
 began to talk to her of the love of God, of 
 his tenderness and loving care, in a way 
 which not only soothed her and brought her 
 peace, but calmed the storm which had so 
 long been raging in my breast. 
 
 "I sought the first opportunity to open 
 my heart to him, and he at once began to 
 remove my doubts preaching, and proving 
 from the Bible, a gospel so widely different 
 from the decrees of wrath that I had been 
 accustomed to hear pronounced from the 
 pulpit, that, for the first time in my life, I 
 began to get an idea of God s goodness and 
 fatherhood, and that night I prayed in hu 
 mility and love, and not in rage and fear. 
 
 "He dealt with my questionings as to 
 Adam s fall, Predestined damnation, certain 
 miracles, and Literal Inspiration in so con- 
 158 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 elusive a manner that I wondered I had not 
 comprehended it before, only my mind had 
 been blinded by the false prophets of wrath. 
 He repudiated Literal Inspiration as unrea 
 sonable; but accepted Plenary Inspiration 
 as consonant with reason. Christ s work, he 
 declared, was not in the least dependent on 
 miracles, nor was it taught in the Bible that 
 Salvation depended on belief in miracles. 
 Yet His greatest miracle was not raising 
 Lazarus from the dead, but raising a dead 
 world from corruption and sin. Salvation 
 was a matter of the heart, not of the head. 
 Christ s death and passion were not needed 
 to reconcile God to man, but to bring men to 
 God. God was Love, and his justice was 
 not what hard men had distorted it into; 
 but was tempered by the infinite pity of an 
 infinitely wise and compassionate Father, 
 who pitied his children, knew their infirmi 
 ties, and remembered that they were but 
 dust. 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 II 
 
 "I RETURNED home sooner than I had in 
 tended. So relieved was I by the teaching of 
 my new evangel that I was eager to impart 
 it to my betrothed. I only remained long 
 enough to forward the new furniture for our 
 home, which I had purchased in New York 
 with the joy of one who feels that he is ren 
 dering homage to the most beautiful and 
 perfect of God s creatures. 
 
 "The evening I arrived was prayer-meet 
 ing evening, and I never attended a divine 
 service with such a feeling of joy and rever 
 ence as that. Every one, of course, at 
 tended, and Miss , my betrothed, was 
 
 the cynosure of all eyes as we entered to 
 gether; for I had arrived only in time to call 
 for her and have a blissful ten minutes be 
 fore leaving for church, in which I placed 
 on her hand the jewel I had got in New York 
 to celebrate our engagement. She informed 
 me that it had been decided to appoint me 
 an elder in place of an old man who had just 
 died and that I had received every vote but 
 160 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 one, that of a man named Wynne, who 
 was a distant relative of some kind, and 
 whose son had been an unsuccessful suitor 
 of Hilda Morrison s. The devotional part 
 of the services I participated in with more 
 fervor than I had ever done before; for my 
 heart was filled with thankfulness, and I 
 could listen without a tremor to the man- 
 imagined wrath of a man-imagined Deity. 
 I only awaited an opportunity to explain to 
 my betrothed the happy change in my con 
 dition. 
 
 "I had not long to wait. It was the cus 
 tom among us then for different men to be 
 called on to speak in the meeting, and, by a 
 sort of common consent, it appeared, it had 
 been determined to call on me and ask me 
 to give a sort of account of my trip and its 
 necessarily novel experiences. Accordingly, 
 when the regular devotional exercises were 
 concluded, the pastor called attention to the 
 fact that I had just returned from distant 
 parts, and that it was greatly desired by my 
 friends and fellow-citizens that I should give 
 them some account of my experiences during 
 161 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 my travels, and particularly any new spirit 
 ual experiences I might have had. 
 
 "Encouraged by a smile from my be 
 trothed, I rose and gave them a general 
 outline of my travels, with an episode or 
 two which they appeared to consider suffi 
 ciently diverting, and then I started to take 
 my seat; but I was again interrogated as 
 to whether I had heard any of the great 
 preachers, and, if so, as to my opinion 
 of them. I replied that, while I had 
 heard a number of them, the man who had 
 made most impression on me was a fel 
 low-traveller, and I proceeded to relate my 
 experience with my friend and the effect of 
 his teaching on my views. 
 
 " Borne on by my feelings, I made a com 
 plete confession of my questionings of the 
 slough of despond into which I had sunk, 
 and of my providential escape therefrom, 
 with the joy and peace that I had since been 
 conscious of. I spoke well, I know, for I 
 spoke from my heart. 
 
 "If you can imagine a snow-fall in the 
 midst of summer warmth, you will get a 
 162 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 faint idea of the reception of my words. 
 First a dead silence fell on them, and then a 
 murmur of such disapprobation and hos 
 tility as might have greeted me had I 
 preached a universal and horrifying dam 
 nation instead of the unspeakable mercies 
 of a compassionate and all-wise Father. I 
 sat down and looked around, to encounter 
 only an appalled and appalling horror. I 
 looked at my betrothed. She was as pale 
 as though I had confessed to some terrible 
 crime, and sat with trembling eyelids and 
 white lips, overwhelmed with consternation. 
 The congregation rose in icy silence. The 
 elders, by a tacit consent, drew together 
 and, after a word or two, they gathered 
 about the preacher and moved toward his 
 room back of the pulpit, one of them turning 
 at the door and saying solemnly that I was 
 desired to wait a few moments in the church. 
 I had not known till then how grave was my 
 situation, but I felt relieved that I had un 
 burdened my soul. I had spoken the truth, 
 and I was ready to abide the consequences, 
 however serious they might be. A few of 
 163 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 the congregation also remained, grim, aloof, 
 and silent. 
 
 "In a few moments the door of the room 
 where the elders were in session opened, and 
 one of my judges desired my attendance. I 
 walked in and knew instantly that my sen 
 tence had been passed, and that nothing I 
 could say would avail. 
 
 " Mr. Hood/ said the preacher, with an 
 accent of doom, it is not necessary after 
 your voluntary and appalling confession 
 this evening for us to state the grounds 
 of our action. It is sufficient to say that 
 you can no longer remain connected with 
 this church, which is a church of God. 
 Your removal, immediate and final, has 
 been unanimously decided on by us. He 
 was here interrupted by one of the elders, a 
 stony-faced individual by the name of 
 Wynne, with two steely eyes drilled above 
 his hatchet nose. He objected to the word 
 removal 5 as being too mild. The word he 
 had written in the resolution was, he de 
 clared, expulsion/ This was agreed on, 
 and, with a bow, I walked out. 
 164 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 "In my new-found happiness I was not 
 even then wholly overthrown. I was able 
 to thank God that I felt no rancor toward 
 them. I simply pitied them for their blind 
 ness, and I looked forward to the happiness 
 of my home, chastened by a sense of my 
 own unworthiness, but sustained by the 
 sympathy and confidence of my wife. 
 While cast down, therefore, I was far from 
 destroyed. 
 
 "When I walked out, my betrothed was 
 sitting as I had left her, and when I ap 
 proached her she rose and joined me without 
 a word, and we left the church together. At 
 the threshold I offered her my arm, and she 
 laid her hand lightly on it, but the touch, 
 light as it was, thrilled me. The night was 
 dark, but I did not take note of it till later. 
 Her presence was light enough for me. For 
 a time she was silent, as I was ; but presently 
 she asked me quietly what had occurred 
 when I was called before the elders. I told 
 her that I had been turned out of the church. 
 She gave a little exclamation of horror, but, 
 beyond her Oh! she made no comment, 
 165 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 and we walked on in silence. After a few 
 moments she withdrew her hand from my 
 arm and walked a little further apart from 
 me. I observed it with a certain pang, but 
 as she was engaged in removing her glove, I 
 made no remark upon it. We had by this 
 time reached her father s door, and she 
 stopped, as I thought, to express her pent-up 
 sympathy, but instead, she held her hand 
 out to me. 
 
 I want to restore this to you, she said, 
 in a calm tone. 
 
 " What is it? I held out my hand, and 
 she placed in it our engagement ring, the 
 jewel I had placed on her finger but a few 
 hours before, with a renewal of our vows of 
 life-long confidence and devotion. 
 
 " If you have been turned out of the 
 church, I cannot marry you. 
 
 "I was so overwhelmed that all I could 
 say was, Do you mean it, Hilda? 
 
 " I do, Abner, she said. 
 
 " Have you reflected on it, Hilda? 
 
 " I have, Abner. 
 
 " Is this irrevocable, Hilda? 
 166 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 " Itis, Abner. 
 
 " Then good-by, Hilda/ I said. 
 
 " Good-by, Abner/ she replied. 
 
 "I turned and came away. It was only 
 when I stumbled at the gate that I remarked 
 how dark the night was. As I climbed the 
 hill, the church-clock tolled the midnight 
 hour. I have never heard it since without 
 feeling my heart crushed anew beneath its 
 iron hammer. 
 
 "Since that hour I have lived in exile 
 the exile of the heart. 
 
 "Now you know why I never married," 
 he said, grimly, after a silence in which he 
 had been reflecting on his strange past, while 
 I watched him with a new tenderness for the 
 lonely old man who had fallen a victim to a 
 cruel bigotry burnt into his blood. 
 
 He began to speak again. 
 
 " For a time I thought that possibly she 
 might relent; but I did not know the un 
 fathomable depth of bigotry and when 
 no sign came, I shut myself up and gradu 
 ally withdrew from all association with 
 
 men." 
 
 167 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 "But did you never see her again?" I 
 asked. 
 
 "Certainly not." 
 
 "What became of her, sir?" 
 
 He paused a moment before he replied. 
 Then he said grimly: 
 
 "I never inquired." 
 
 "How have you lived?" 
 
 "Oh! very well sufficiently well. I had 
 an old man to look after me, and when he 
 died his son took his place, and I suppose 
 when he goes I shan t need another. Years 
 ago certain persons claiming to be my kin 
 undertook to try to regulate my affairs; but 
 I soon shut them off. Your father was one 
 of them. I imagine he meant well ; but I 
 wished to forget mankind as they had for 
 gotten me. Since then I have never gazed 
 voluntarily on a woman s face. I have not 
 seen a man, until you came to-day, in I do 
 not know how many years twenty perhaps, 
 and I do not know why I permitted you to 
 come in, unless it be that I am getting in my 
 dotage. Possibly, your name or something 
 about you reminded me of a time that I had 
 168 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 thought almost obliterated from my mem 
 ory." 
 
 "But," I said, coming back to the main 
 cause of his embitterment, as I thought, 
 "you know the world has moved. Many 
 now go much beyond what you declared 
 as your conviction." 
 
 "No doubt. I have seen as much inti 
 mated," he said dryly. "In the reaction 
 they have come to believe nothing. But I 
 believe." He laid his hand on the old tat 
 tered book on his table. "I cannot but be 
 lieve. It alone has sustained me." 
 
 "What did my grand " (I hesitated) 
 "father do? Did he take sides against 
 you?" 
 
 "No. He wished me to yield my princi 
 ples to make overtures to however, it is 
 so long ago now, it is of no use to open that 
 long-sealed past. He took life more lightly. 
 He did not know how deep was my wound." 
 He drifted off into reflection for a few mo 
 ments. 
 
 "Where did you say you lived ?" he asked 
 suddenly. I told him. 
 169 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 "Write it down." I did so, signing my 
 name " Abner Hood, Jr." 
 
 "If you come this way again next year, 
 you may come and see me." He rose. 
 
 Seeing that my visit had been ended by 
 him, I thanked him and took my leave, and, 
 as I shook hands with him at his door, I 
 felt again that sudden tenderness for the old 
 man that I had felt once or twice before 
 during the interview. 
 
 "Good-by, uncle," I said, as I held his 
 withered and wrinkled old hand, with its 
 high veins and thick brown freckles, and 
 laid my other hand on it. "If you ever 
 want me or want anything done that I can 
 do for you, telegraph me and I ll come im 
 mediately." 
 
 "Good-by. I hardly think I shall want 
 anything. I have passed wanting." 
 
 As I forced my way back through the 
 tangled thickets, I made my plan to leave at 
 once, so as to escape the questioning of my 
 driver or of the host at Simpson s. And so I 
 did. I kept my room under plea of fatigue, 
 and then, having paid my bill, took my bag 
 170 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 I 
 
 and walked down to meet the night-train. 
 It was late, owing to an accident, and, as I 
 waited, I heard the village clock toll sullenly 
 the same midnight hour to which my lonely 
 old kinsman had listened so often. 
 
 Some months later, in the spring, I re 
 ceived a despatch signed "Simon Morse," 
 announcing the death of the old man. 
 Without waiting to procure a black suit, I 
 took the first train for the East, and went 
 to W. There I learned that the old hermit 
 had passed away three days before, and was 
 to be buried that afternoon, apparently with 
 much pomp. The town was full of excite 
 ment over the event. The difficulty of ac 
 cess to the place, the mystery connected 
 with his life, and other circumstances com 
 bined, had started a hundred different sto 
 ries as to the old man s rigorous seclusion, 
 varying all the way from madness over a 
 broken-off love-affair to the commission of 
 some heinous crime. It was said generally 
 that he had died without a will, and that his 
 nearest heirs were the not very near cousins 
 in the village, with whom he had always 
 been on bad terms. 
 
 171 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 I made my way up the hill by a winding 
 track which the supposed nearest of kin had 
 had made for the occasion through the 
 thickets which had so long filled the 
 grounds. 
 
 As I passed the church in its bare lot, I 
 observed that many flowers and plants were 
 being carried in from a fine florist s wagon 
 with the name of a neighboring town on it 
 in flaring letters, and that a grave had been 
 dug in a lot near the door. 
 
 On arrival at the house, I found the front 
 entrance, closed for so many years, opened, 
 and quite a concourse of vehicles and people, 
 drawn by curiosity, gathered in the grounds. 
 Having asked one of the men, apparently 
 busy about the funeral, where I might find 
 the deceased s old attendant, I received in 
 reply a solemn and silent wave in the direc 
 tion of the door; so I entered to make my 
 way back in the direction of the old man s 
 living apartment, where I had visited him. 
 I was surprised to discover what a hand 
 some house it was. Though sombre and 
 musty and dusty from being so long closed, 
 the hall and the apartments opening on it 
 172 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 were handsome, and the hall, with its beau 
 tiful cornice and tasteful old stairway, was 
 distinguished. A number of old paintings 
 hung on the walls, all draped, however, in 
 coverings gray and brown with dust and 
 cobwebs. The carpets on the floors were 
 soft with the dust upon them. The walls 
 were scarred and streaked with the damp 
 and mould of many years, and the ceiling 
 had fallen in places where the rain and 
 melted snow had soaked in from some rotted 
 section of the roof. 
 
 I made my way back to the rear, and dis 
 covered that the old man s apartment was 
 the scene of considerable bustle. It was 
 filled with a party of, perhaps, half a dozen 
 or more elderly men and women, dressed in 
 black, and very busy examining the papers 
 and rubbish taken from the desk and boxes 
 which stood open about the room. As I 
 opened the door without knocking mani 
 festly to their great surprise they had had 
 no time to desist from their occupation. I 
 was asked somewhat shortly what I wanted, 
 and explained that I was looking for Mr. 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 Hood s old attendant, whom, I had been 
 told, I might find there. 
 
 "He is somewhere outside," said one of 
 the women, with a wave, as she returned to 
 her work, while another one added : 
 
 "This room is reserved for the family." 
 
 With an apology, I withdrew, and before 
 long came on an old fellow dressed in a long- 
 tailed coat and a very ancient high hat, who, 
 though not displaying many signs of mourn 
 ing in his raiment, showed so much real sor 
 row in his face that I instantly picked him 
 out. 
 
 "Are you the old gentleman s attend 
 ant?" I asked. 
 
 "I be," he said; "leastways, I was till two 
 days ago." 
 
 I knew by his expression and tone what 
 he meant. 
 
 "I want to see you outside." He gave 
 me a swift look, and with a quick glance 
 around, signed to me to precede him. At 
 the silent sign from him, I walked on, and 
 he followed me outside to the back, where 
 I had first seen the old recluse strolling up 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 and down in the evening sunlight. Here, 
 without apparently looking at me, he made 
 a sign in the direction of the shrubbery, 
 and I walked on, he moving obliquely, as 
 though going in another direction, but, 
 once in the screen of the thickets, he joined 
 me. 
 
 "Be you Abner, Jr?" he asked briefly, 
 and on my nodding assent he added dryly: 
 "I been expectin you." 
 
 He then told me the story of the old man s 
 last hours. He had been as well as usual 
 "He had taken to talkin of you a mite," 
 said he, "and was lookin forward to your 
 comin back. He said he allowed he was 
 gittin in his dotage. That was only the 
 night before. That night he was readin 
 his Bible till late I saw the light under his 
 door. Here is something for you." He 
 took from his inside pocket, with great de 
 liberation, a letter, carefully sealed, and ad 
 dressed in a tremulous, but still strong hand 
 to "Abner Hood, Jr., Esquire." 
 
 "Is this his handwriting?" I inquired. 
 
 "It be every word he wrote it the day 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 before he was taken that is, he copied it 
 off fair that day. He d been a-workin at it 
 on and off for some time before. He was 
 particular abaout where he was to be buried 
 said he didn t want to lie in the shadow 
 of that church." 
 
 I opened the packet and found it to con 
 tain, as I had conjectured, a will, wholly 
 written with the old gentleman s own hand, 
 and in the quaint phraseology of the past. 
 
 After declaring his abiding belief in God, 
 "Who alone judgeth the hearts of men," 
 and committing his soul to His infinite 
 mercy, he directed that all debts, if there 
 were any, should be paid ; that his faithful 
 attendant, Simon Morse, should have the 
 privilege of living on the place during his life 
 free of rent and should be paid an annuity 
 of several hundred dollars a year; that I 
 should have the house with all it contained, 
 and so much ground as I might, in my un 
 fettered judgment, deem necessary to sup 
 port it, and that all the rest and residue of 
 his property should be divided into two equal 
 shares one of which was to be mine abso- 
 176 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 lutely and in fee simple, and the other was 
 to be applied by me to such charitable 
 objects as I might select, including alike 
 individual cases and public charities, I to 
 be the sole judge of the proper beneficiaries, 
 and not to be called to account for any 
 acts of mine in connection therewith by 
 any person except God. The only con 
 ditions were that I was not to give in aid 
 of bigotry or superstition, and that I was 
 to see that he was decently and privately 
 buried on his own land, on the hillside 
 facing the east and overlooking the village 
 of W. And, finally, I was left residuary 
 legatee and sole executor of the will. 
 
 "It s all right, ain t it?" demanded the 
 old attendant. 
 
 "I think so; but, at any rate, I am his 
 next-of-kin and his heir." 
 
 His eyes gave a snap of satisfaction, and 
 something like the ghost of a smile flitted 
 about the corners of his mouth. 
 
 "Now, we ll bury him as he said," he said 
 briefly. 
 
 "We will," I nodded. "We ll carry out 
 177 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 his wishes to the letter. But we shall have 
 to get the grave dug." 
 
 "It s all ready," he said. "I dug it my 
 self last night, and just covered it over with 
 boughs so they wouldn t know. You see, I 
 thought you d come." 
 
 "I wish I had come before," I exclaimed, 
 thinking of the old fellow s loneliness. 
 
 "Well, I don t know," reflected Simon. 
 "He didn t like folks araound much. Pears 
 like they pestered him." 
 
 " But I feel sure he would have seen me." 
 
 "Maybe so. He might. He talked of 
 you considerable. But it appeared to stir 
 him up some. He allowed he was gittin in 
 his dotage. Twas next mornin after writ- 
 in his will he had a stroke." 
 
 "The very next morning!" 
 
 Simon nodded with conviction. 
 
 "The very nex mornin . He was set- 
 tin in his cheer when I went in speechless 
 and I seen at onct he had a stroke. He 
 was still reasonable, and I made out he 
 wanted me to send for some one. I thought 
 first twas the doctor, but he shook his head. 
 178 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 Oh, he was reasonable enough! When I 
 thought o you, he nodded his head so." 
 (The old chap nodded so violently that he 
 shook his hat off, which apparently caused 
 him much concern. When he had brushed 
 and replaced it, he proceeded:) "Well, he 
 didn t live long. He went so fast I couldn t 
 leave him to call for anybody and twas 
 just as well, I guess; they d a pestered him, 
 and he didn t want em. Soon as he was 
 gone, I went down and notified em, and 
 they come like ravens. I never see sich 
 grief! Twas most ridiculous. They turned 
 the house inside out." (I could not help 
 smiling inwardly at the old fellow s idea of 
 "inside out.") "At first I was like their 
 long-lost brother. I had done so much for 
 him had been like his own son. Did I know 
 of any will ? Did I know whether he had 
 any other kinfolks ? and a hundred other 
 things. Well, I ve told so many lies in my 
 time, t I thought a lie or two more wouldn t 
 make no difference, so I told em he was 
 always so close-mouthed they wouldn t be 
 lieve it, and if he had any other kinfolks I 
 179 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 guess they d a tried to hunt him up and 
 save his property, if not his soul. And then 
 you d ought to seen em change. They no 
 sooner thought that they was safe than 
 Poor Simon was the dirt under their feet. 
 They ordered me araound s if I was their 
 slave, and never had been no emancipation 
 proclamation, nuther. They been peerin 
 and speerin everywheres till it s scandalous, 
 and they been a-hintin that they more than 
 suspicionate as how I have stole all the old 
 man s money and silver. But sich as there 
 is, is in a box in the hole on the inside of the 
 big square chimney and the key is in the 
 secret drawer at the back of his desk. And 
 now I guess you know what to do?" 
 
 "I guess I do, Simon," said I, "and first 
 I want to say to you that whatever happens 
 you may live where you like and do as you 
 like, and you will be made comfortable." 
 
 "I should like to live here," said Simon, 
 "and look after his grave and the grass plot 
 and the caow." 
 
 "You shall do it," I said, and we walked 
 back to the house by different ways. 
 180 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 I walked in once more at the front, and, 
 finding the door of one of the rooms open 
 which had been closed when I passed 
 through before, I entered the room, which 
 proved to be the old drawing-room, and 
 found the body laid out there in a coffin, 
 which, with its plated ware, appeared not 
 only handsome, but almost gay. The glass 
 portion of the top was open, and an impor 
 tant-looking undertaker was standing near 
 by, completely absorbed in admiration of 
 the company that were now assembling. 
 As I gazed on the old man s form, lying so 
 placidly and with a certain high scorn on his 
 marble face, I could not help the tears well 
 ing up in my eyes at the thought of the long 
 suffering he had endured at the hands of 
 unbending bigotry his own no less than 
 that of others. 
 
 I passed on to the back apartment, and 
 this time entered, followed after a minute 
 by Simon, who had been awaiting me. I 
 found the family sitting portentously in 
 their chairs, their black gloves on and long 
 veils ready to be lowered. Again they stared 
 at me, and more than one informed me in 
 181 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 a low but positive tone that this room was 
 "reserved for the family." But as I en 
 tered and appeared somewhat at home, I 
 observed looks of some disquietude ex 
 changed among them. 
 
 Finally, as I still remained somewhat 
 stolidly gazing about me, two of the women 
 rose, and, going over to the eldest of the 
 party, held a whispered colloquy, of which 
 I was evidently the subject. At length the 
 latter walked over toward me and said : 
 
 "I guess you have made a mistake. Per 
 haps you didn t understand that this was 
 the decedent s private apartment and has 
 been reserved for his folks till time for the 
 funeral." 
 
 "I know," I said; "but I am one of his 
 kin." 
 
 "Ah! What I mean is, his near kins 
 folks: you are hardly one of them." He 
 was looking at my gray suit, of which I 
 suddenly became conscious. His tone had 
 grown irritated, and I made no reply, which 
 appeared, from their nods, to encourage 
 them all. 
 
 " Did he leave no will ? " I asked presently. 
 182 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 "He did not." 
 
 "That he didn t," exclaimed all the 
 women sharply, in a chorus. 
 
 "I shall have to ask you to withdraw," 
 said the elder of the men, assuming a very 
 imperative tone, "as your questions and 
 your presence are offensive to these ladies. 
 If you do not Go and ask David Mallow to 
 come here." He addressed old Simon over 
 my shoulder. 
 
 "Who is he?" I asked, turning to Simon. 
 
 "The constable the taown-officer." 
 
 "Well, I have no intention or desire to be 
 offensive to these ladies, or to you either," I 
 said ; " so I am going. But before I go, I 
 want to explain to you that Mr. Hood did 
 leave a will." It was like a bomb to them. 
 
 "Left a will! I don t believe it!" ex 
 claimed more than one of them, rising in a 
 flutter, aghast at the announcement. The 
 spokesman, however, waved silence. 
 
 "How do you know?" he demanded, sar 
 castically. "I have proof positive that he 
 did not leave a will." He nodded in the 
 direction of Simon. 
 
 183 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 "Because I have it, and I am the execu 
 tor, and, what is more, I am his next of kin." 
 I opened the door and walked out, followed 
 by Simon, who remained only long enough 
 to answer one question. Before he closed 
 the door I heard my name repeated, " Abner 
 Hood, Jr.!" in some consternation. 
 
 I passed forward to the front of the 
 house, and, seeing the clergyman there, I 
 drew him aside and apprised him of my 
 uncle s selection of the spot for his grave, 
 and, having satisfied him by showing him 
 the will, I requested him to make the neces 
 sary arrangements as to the change in the 
 plans. This he civilly undertook to do, and 
 when I went back a half-hour later, after 
 seeing the grave, I found everything ready 
 for the interment, in accord with my uncle s 
 wishes. The "family" were seated in the 
 drawing-room, at the head of the casket, 
 the ladies with their veils now drawn close 
 enough, and, as I did not wish to be of 
 fensive to them, I kept outside by the 
 door. 
 
 The old custom of passing around to view 
 184 
 
THE BIGOT 
 
 the remains before the coffin was closed 
 was still observed there, and, though I had 
 thought of stopping it, I yielded to the 
 clergyman s suggestion that I permit it, 
 and I was glad afterward that I did. The 
 throng that passed around was, it is true, 
 led to it only by curiosity. But at the very 
 end a little old figure in dingy black, with a 
 faded dark veil, appeared in the line. I had 
 observed her as she climbed painfully up the 
 hill a short time before, her figure very bent, 
 and her step very slow and painful. She 
 had remained in the background in a corner 
 till the last. Then she came forward. She 
 paused a moment at the side of the coffin 
 to raise her veil, that she might get a look at 
 the face, and my heart hardened as I 
 thought of the curiosity that would lead 
 even so old a woman, at such pains, to gaze 
 on a corpse; but suddenly she drew from the 
 folds of her dress a little bunch of crumpled 
 flowers, and laid them tenderly on the dead 
 man s bosom, and, bending over the body as 
 though to redraw her veil, she tremblingly 
 touched her wrinkled hand softly to his cold 
 185 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 brow, and I saw some tears dropping 
 silently. 
 
 " Who is that ? " I asked of a man near me. 
 
 " That s old Miss Hilda Morrison lives 
 in the little old tumble-down house behind 
 the church. She s in and about ninety 
 years old, I guess." 
 
 She was his betrothed. She had lived, 
 like my uncle, in life-long exile of the heart. 
 
 When the procession moved, I kept near 
 the old lady I had seen, and, as we climbed 
 the hill, I offered her my arm. 
 
 "Won t you let me help you? I am a 
 stranger here," I said. She took it without 
 a word, except to murmur her thanks; but 
 on the way up she asked me if I would mind 
 telling her my name. 
 
 "My name is Abner Hood," I said, gen 
 tly, "and I know who you are." Her hand 
 clutched my arm, then relaxed, then took it 
 again, and I felt her head pressed softly 
 against my shoulder. And from that time 
 she leaned on me firmly. 
 
 186 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 I 
 
 IT was some years ago, before the old rela 
 tion between the "white folks" and their old 
 "servants" in Virginia had so changed as it 
 has of late, and yet when the change had 
 already begun. 
 
 In the late afternoon of a spring day, Doc 
 tor Hunter had just come in from his rounds 
 about the neighborhood, and had laid his hat 
 and gloves on the old piano in the sitting- 
 room, and placed his worn riding-whip be 
 side them in a wilderness of books, flowers, 
 and nondescript articles, when the door 
 opened and his wife entered. She appeared 
 always to know by some instinct when her 
 husband arrived. 
 
 "I did not see you ride up," she said, as 
 if she had failed in some duty. "You 
 didn t get to see Jane?" 
 
 "No," said her husband, "I did not get 
 187 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 down in the direction of The Bend I was 
 detained, that child was so sick. I will go 
 there the first chance I have I don t sup 
 pose there is much the matter with her 
 except malaria." 
 
 Mrs. Hunter looked sympathetic. Jane 
 had been a favorite servant, and now she 
 was ill. " I am afraid she is in rather a bad 
 way. Old Moses was here to-day and he 
 reports her as very badly off. He seems to 
 be in great trouble about her. He was very 
 anxious to see you. He says there is a man 
 up here from the city a sort of preacher 
 who is turning the people against him 
 wants to be the preacher at Mount Hagar, 
 himself." 
 
 The doctor grunted "I heard down the 
 road that there was a young city negro up 
 here stirring them up. I must look into it." 
 
 "He was very much disturbed about 
 Jane," said Mrs. Hunter. "I will see if he 
 has gone." She left the room. 
 
 "Hysteria, probably mused the old 
 physician. "She may be mad." 
 
 A few moments later there was a knock 
 188 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 on the door, and a tall, elderly negro man, 
 very black and with bushy white hair, 
 entered. His white collar gleamed high 
 against his black skin. In his hand he car 
 ried an old and much battered beaver hat, 
 which he deposited carefully on the floor. 
 
 "Good-evenin , master/ 5 
 
 " Howdy do, Moses ? How is everything 
 with you?" inquired the doctor. 
 
 "Tollerble, master tollerble, suh ev y- 
 thing is tollerble, thankee, suh yes, suh. 
 How is you, master?" It was the old form 
 of salutation. 
 
 "I m pretty well, thank you. How is 
 Jane? Your mistress tells me that she has 
 been ailing?" 
 
 The doctor spoke as if the old man had 
 not replied at all. 
 
 "Yes, suh Jane she s tollerble po ly. 
 I se right smart troubled about her, suh 
 yes, suh." 
 
 "What is the matter with her?" 
 
 "Well, suh, I don t rightly know. Some 
 folks thinks she s been He shambled 
 and hesitated, and glanced around the 
 189 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 room " Some folks thinks as how she mus 
 V been tricked," he added with conviction. 
 
 "Ah! Tricked? I thought, Moses, you 
 had more sense." 
 
 "Well, suh, I don t edzactly say as / 
 thinks so; but some folks thinks so her 
 mammy thinks so and she certainly do 
 act mighty erresponsible yes, suh, she cer 
 tainly do." 
 
 The doctor reflected. "Who says she s 
 been tricked? How long has this been 
 going on?" 
 
 The old man laid one long, black fore 
 finger in the horny palm of the other hand 
 and began to count "Dthat young man 
 have been here five Sundays or, maybe, 
 hit s six I disremembers which it is rightly 
 and she was tooken just about de second 
 week after he come." 
 
 "What young man?" The doctor was 
 interested. 
 
 "He s a young colored man from Rich 
 mond he says he s a sort of doctor " 
 
 " A doc tor ! I thought he was a preacher ? " 
 
 "Yes, suh, dthat too; but he s a sort o 
 190 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 doctor not a doctor like you, master but 
 a sort o sperits doctor 
 
 "A spirit doctor? What sort of doctor is 
 that? What sort of things does he do?" 
 
 "Well, suh, he ken show you a thing in 
 de hand, dat you ken see dyes as plain as 
 dat dyah book on dat table, an nex min 
 ute it ain dyah, an you ll fine it jis as likely 
 as not in you hat or in yo pocket." 
 
 "Ah! I see," said the doctor, with a nod 
 of satisfaction. His scepticism was not lost 
 on the old darky. 
 
 "An dat ain all," he continued. "He 
 done fin things dthat no one else ain know 
 nothin about dat s what I air talkin 
 about. Why, he fin de trick-charm sewed 
 up in her baid sewed up in it way in de 
 middle o de shucks!" 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 "Yes, suh, he did dat thing I see him 
 wid my two eyes. And dthat ain all!" he 
 added, seeing a look of amused incredulity 
 come over his old master s face. " He went 
 out and find another trick-bag in de mid 
 dle of a hollow tree right by de spring in 
 191 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 de very middle cause I see him when he 
 put he han in and fin it right whar he tell 
 
 me to cut/ 3 
 
 "Why, he had it in his hand all the time," 
 ejaculated the doctor. 
 
 "Nor, suh, he didn t cause he had done 
 roll up he sleeves to git his arm in de holler 
 and he striched he hands wide open so " 
 He illustrated with outstretched hands, 
 palms down. 
 
 The doctor chuckled. 
 
 "Der is de skorripins and things dthat 
 dee conjure wid you never see nothin like 
 dem things dat s in em hyah and finger 
 nails and tacks an dried insecks, and 
 worms, an bat-wings, and I don t know 
 what all Dee is de things dee done set 
 ag inst Jane to destroy her health, and los 
 her soul. And he says he kin cure her." 
 
 The doctor nodded with satisfaction. 
 "And what does he want for this cure?" 
 
 "Dyah tis!" said Moses briefly. "He 
 say he ken cure Jane; but he got to have 
 de deed to my place to do it he cyan do 
 
 nothin tell he stan in my shoes " 
 
 192 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 "Ah! I see I thought so muttered 
 the doctor. "Well, you are not fool enough 
 to do that, I hope?" 
 
 "Nor, suh Fse mighty pestered I done 
 offer him bofe my pigs and de chickens; but 
 he say he got to have land cause she come 
 from de dust and she got to go to de dust 
 again dat de cuss is in de Ian or dem 
 whar own it. An he ain t got de power to 
 help her long as I got de Ian ." He pon 
 dered deeply. "Sometimes dat man talk 
 mighty curisom you might think I had 
 done trick her de way he talk. I hear he 
 tol some of de elders dat it was somebody 
 mighty nigh to her what bring dat trouble 
 pon her and dat he s got to give up all 
 he s got and stan befo Gord naked befo he 
 kin meek de tenement. I thought, maybe, 
 twas her mammy; but he said hit was some 
 body dat s versed in de Scriptures and you 
 know Ria cyarn even read her Bible not 
 very good so it mus be me he s signifyin ." 
 
 " I see I see You say he s a preach 
 er?" 
 
 "He done meek em tu n me out, suh." 
 193 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 The doctor wheeled and faced him "It 
 isn t possible!" 
 
 "Yes, suh Nex Sunday is de las 
 time I is to preach at Mount Hagar." 
 
 "Well, it s an outrage!" protested the 
 doctor. 
 
 Yes, suh, tis!" said the old man simply. 
 
 The doctor reflected. "We must see 
 about this. I shall look into it 
 
 "I sho ly wish you would, suh, cause dat 
 man done tu n me out o my pulpit and 
 tryin to tu n me out o my place." 
 
 The doctor came very near swearing. It 
 manifestly encouraged the old darky to be 
 more confidential. 
 
 "You don t know what a bad man dat is." 
 He lowered his voice and approached him 
 slowly, with his tall figure bent forward. 
 "He says de ain no sich place as hell!" 
 
 He spoke in a horrified tone hardly louder 
 than a whisper. 
 
 "Says there is no such place as hell!" 
 
 exclaimed the doctor, subduing the twinkle 
 
 in his eyes "Why, I never heard of such 
 
 a thing! Why, it s it s positively outra- 
 
 194 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 geous ! Why, in a month I shan t have a 
 sheep left on my place!" 
 
 "Nor, suh, dthat you wouldn t!" ex 
 claimed the old man in a tone of sympathy 
 and of conviction. He stood slowly shaking 
 his head in an attitude of deep dejection. 
 "I ll tell you de fac , master, if dyah ain no 
 mo hell, I don t want to live no longer!" 
 
 "Well, there ought to be one if there 
 isn t," agreed the doctor, "for just such 
 gentry as he. What is his name ? " 
 
 "He call hisself Doctor Simon. He say 
 he name is Dr. Simon Jambers " 
 
 "Ah! Well, he ought to be a sorcerer 
 with those two names Janes and Jambres 
 seem to be still contending with Moses 
 ah?" 
 
 The old darky was listening attentively 
 
 "Dthat s in de Bible, ain t it?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 The old man gave a nod of satisfaction 
 and a glint came into his eyes. 
 
 "Ken you lay yo han pon dat place?" 
 
 "Why, yes, I think so It s in Timo 
 thy, I know " 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 "Ah! well, if it s in Timothy, I ken fin 
 it I members de name very well " 
 
 The doctor rose and walked over to the 
 door of the wing-room which he used as an 
 office. As he opened it he turned solemnly 
 and said : " I will give you a little physic for 
 Jane. I must come down and see her 
 and, meantime, I will give you something 
 to give her which will take the trick off. 
 Come this way." 
 
 An expression of mingled relief and hope 
 came over the old man s face as he stepped 
 forward. 
 
 Yes, suh Yes, suh I se mighty 
 obleeged to you I ll gin t to her, sho 
 Dat s des what I wants her to have." 
 
 The room which they entered was one 
 that certainly looked as if it might have been 
 the workshop of some old practitioner of the 
 black art. The floor was bare, except for 
 an old worn deerskin or two; the black ma 
 hogany furniture with carved heads and 
 wings had been originally covered with horse 
 hair, but now it was broken and worn in 
 places and the springs stuck up. The table 
 196 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 was covered with books, papers, and bot 
 tles in what others might have considered a 
 litter; which the doctor, however, always de 
 clared the perfection of order. A bookcase, 
 filled with medical books and what the doc 
 tor termed generically, "apparatus," lined 
 one side of the room and on the other was a 
 large double press with glass doors; behind 
 one of which was a conglomerate array of 
 bottles of every size and hue, while behind 
 the other, partly veiled by the remains of an 
 old green curtain, was an old and very shaky 
 skeleton which might have been the victim 
 of some of the ingredients the bottles con 
 tained. 
 
 The old negro, as he entered the sanctum, 
 insensibly moved on tiptoe, and his face 
 assumed an expression of undisguised awe 
 as his eyes roved around the apartment and 
 finally rested on the glimmering white bones 
 behind the glass door of the press. The old 
 doctor was quite oblivious of his presence. 
 The effort required to open the drawer 
 shook the press sufficiently to set the skele 
 ton to shaking, and one of the arms slipped 
 197 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 from the pin on which it rested and was fall 
 ing forward when the doctor caught it. 
 
 "Ah! old man, you are getting tired of 
 standing there, are you?" he said, as he re 
 placed the arm carefully. "Wait a little 
 longer. Don t be in a hurry to come down 
 I may have further use for you. There s 
 a young man who maybe will have some 
 work for you to do. Good-evening He 
 shut the door softly and turned to the table 
 where his glass stood. He was talking of 
 his son who was beginning to study medi 
 cine and he was not aware of the effect of 
 his words on his companion. 
 
 But old Moses eyes were bulging, his 
 bushy white hair was standing on his head. 
 He interpreted the doctor s words literally 
 as applied to the case of his daughter and 
 the young trick-doctor. It gave him at 
 once a new feeling of awe and of infinite 
 respect for his former master. 
 
 This was increased when the doctor, after 
 much mashing and mixing of a blue sub 
 stance on the bottom of a plate, rolled up 
 two bluish pills, and, putting them with a 
 198 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 number of white ones in a small round box 
 with a skull and bones on the top, held the 
 box out to him with a solemn injunction to 
 give his daughter both the blue pills that 
 night, and six of the white ones next morning 
 and to follow them up with spoonfuls of 
 the liquid from the phial. Moses was about 
 to take the box when he observed that on it 
 was a red picture of a skull and cross-bones, 
 and he started back with an exclamation : 
 
 "Lord, master, what is dat?" 
 
 "Take it," said the doctor sternly. "I 
 am trying to save your daughter, and this 
 will do it if you do as I tell you." 
 
 The old man took it, trembling, holding it 
 much as if it were a coal of fire. 
 
 "Yes, suh. Yes, suh, I m gwine do jest 
 like you say on y I se sort o skeered o 
 dem things 
 
 Your daughter will be one of them soon 
 if you don t follow my instructions," said 
 the doctor. 
 
 "Yes, suh, I m gwine to foller em, sho," 
 faltered the old negro. 
 
 "Well, don t let that young man know 
 
 anything about it 
 
 199 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 "Nor, suh, he ain gwine know nuttin 
 tall about it. I ain gwine to say a word to 
 nobody." 
 
 "And if you can keep that rascal away 
 from there, so much the better in fact, you 
 must keep him away." 
 
 "Yes, suh, I am gwine to do dat too ef 
 I kin," he added with a touch of pathos. 
 
 "Well, if you can t, I can," said the doc 
 tor, "and, maybe, it would be just as well 
 to let him be there when I come; but don t 
 let him know I am coming, you hear." 
 
 "Nor, suh I won t do dat," said Moses. 
 
 II 
 
 THE road which the doctor took next day 
 lay through a low-lying district of swamps 
 and "mashes" in the bend of the river from 
 which it took its name, "The Bend." Here 
 the negroes in the first flush of freedom had 
 established a settlement, where they lived to 
 themselves. 
 
 When the doctor arrived at the old 
 preacher s house, he was impressed by the 
 fact that it was the best of the score or more 
 
 200 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 of homes that composed the colored settle 
 ment. Most of them were ordinary cabins 
 with little clearings of an acre or two about 
 them and a rickety out-building or two near 
 by. But Moses home was a two-story 
 frame structure with a little porch, and the 
 out-buildings were in good shape, while the 
 fields about the place showed the care of a 
 good and industrious farmer. 
 
 "Naboth s Vineyard," reflected the doc 
 tor, as he cast his eye over the signs of thrift. 
 His gaze rested on a buggy, with a scrawny 
 horse hitched to it, standing near the door, 
 and an expression of speculation came into 
 his mild eyes. 
 
 As, having tied his horse, he approached 
 the door, the sound of a woman s moaning, 
 accompanied now and then by a man s 
 voice in a high nasal tone, caught his ear. 
 He paused and listened. The woman ap 
 peared to be in much pain or distress; and 
 the man was explaining it; for fragments of 
 the colloquy reached the doctor. 
 
 : Yes you are worse than you were 
 You feel worse, don t you?" 
 
 201 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "As I told you Your enemy is after 
 you again " 
 
 The woman moaned and there was a 
 buzz within from some one else. "I felt 
 sure of it all the signs related it As I 
 told you, you must put yourself in my hands 
 before I can help you. Do that and I can 
 cure you otherwise you have not long to 
 live." 
 
 "Yes, suh." 
 
 "If your father will sign the paper I can 
 cure you if not, I am powerless The 
 malign influence is too strong The pow 
 er of evil that keeps him from helping me to 
 take away the spell on you, keeps you in 
 misery and will sink you in torment " 
 
 There was a moan of fear attended by the 
 low expostulation of some one. 
 
 "Now, I will show you Although I 
 removed two days ago the conjure-bag that 
 your enemy put in your bed, I will show 
 you that another one has been placed there 
 since You will all see 
 
 The buzz within grew louder and at that 
 
 202 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 moment the doctor walked up, and pushing 
 the door wide open, stepped inside. 
 
 The apparition brought the proceedings 
 within to a sudden halt. 
 
 In the little room which was partly dark 
 ened by a thin red curtain hung over the 
 single window were a half-dozen persons, 
 most of them seated around the fire. In a 
 corner the patient, a young woman, very 
 black, but now ashy with terror, lay in bed, 
 her eyes now drooping, now fastened on the 
 man who stood above her. At the foot of 
 the bed sat an old woman with arms folded, 
 rocking backward and forward in mingled 
 fear and grief. Two or three young slatterns 
 sat a little further away, their expression 
 divided between apprehension and curiosity, 
 while over the bed of the terrified patient 
 bent a young, slim mulatto dressed in a long, 
 loose, black coat. At the moment he was 
 making slow passes with his hands. On his 
 fingers were several rings, and about his 
 neck were hung two or three chains and 
 strings of beads to which were attached a 
 
 number of charms. 
 
 203 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 At the apparition of the doctor there was 
 a sudden cessation of the incantation. The 
 young man straightened up and fell back 
 from the bed with an exclamation of sur 
 prise the women rose from their chairs. 
 
 "Hello! What is going on here?" de 
 manded the doctor. He addressed the 
 conjurer. "What are you doing to that 
 woman?" 
 
 "I am her physician She is very sick 
 and I am endeavoring to cure her." He 
 had recovered himself and was trying to 
 impress the spectators. 
 
 "You look like a physician You are 
 endeavoring to kill her and appear to be in 
 a fair way of doing it." He turned to her 
 mother. " Where is Moses ? " 
 
 "He had to go to see the Justice " be 
 gan the woman. 
 
 "He was unexpectedly called away this 
 morning," interrupted the young mulatto. 
 
 "And you are taking advantage of his 
 absence to kill his daughter." 
 
 "No, sir, I am employing the means of 
 Psychotheripee to relieve her pains." 
 204 
 
At the moment he was making slow passes with his hands 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 "Psycho what?" demanded the doctor, 
 taking a paper from his pocket, and holding 
 it out to him. "Write that down." 
 
 " Psychotheripee You have surely 
 heard of that?" 
 
 "Oh, yes I have heard of it. Go 
 ahead and write it down." 
 
 "Well, you see," began the young man, 
 "I don t happen to have a pen and ink." 
 
 "I have a pencil," said the doctor inex 
 orably, handing him one. 
 
 He walked to the door and, glancing out, 
 said: "Come in Moses, I want you to see 
 the doctor work." The old negro came 
 in somewhat reluctantly and took a seat 
 near the doctor which the latter had in 
 dicated. His expression was one of great 
 gravity. 
 
 The mulatto took the pencil and turned 
 to the window. He knew that the eyes of 
 all the negroes were on him and he was on 
 trial. He wrote slowly and handed it to 
 the doctor, who read the word, " Sycher- 
 therripee." 
 
 "Ah, yes," he said, and put the paper 
 205 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 back in his pocket. "Now go ahead and 
 let me see how you proceed." 
 
 The negro looked at him keenly and then 
 swept the room with a swift glance. All 
 eyes were fastened on him. It appeared to 
 decide him. 
 
 "Well, you see," he began, in a voice in 
 tended to impress the audience, "I cannot 
 guarantee that the supernatural powers will 
 testify their presence in the company of 
 er strangers They require a sympa 
 thetic audience 
 
 "Oh! nonsense!" said the doctor, rousing 
 up a little. "Go ahead, and let us see, or 
 else confess yourself an impostor." 
 
 "No, sir, I am not that," declared Simon. 
 "I will give you the proof if I can get the 
 proper er atmosphere." 
 
 "Humph!" grunted the doctor. "Open 
 the door, Moses." 
 
 "No, I don t mean that I have light 
 enough 
 
 The doctor s grunt this time was one of 
 contempt. 
 
 " Don t open it," he said to the old negro, 
 206 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 who was proceeding to carry out his order, 
 and now stood near it. Turning his back 
 to the window, the doctor settled himself as 
 if for a nap, only his feet were drawn up 
 close to his chair. The mulatto continued 
 to talk on monotonously, addressing the 
 others, but evidently to impress the doctor. 
 He moved about quietly, ostentatiously 
 pulling up his sleeves, and he "discoursed" 
 of the wonderful dealings of the spirits, 
 using a curious jargon of mingled lingo and 
 scientific terms. 
 
 As the negro with much talk and many 
 movements of the hands and arms pro 
 ceeded to perform his acts of legerdemain 
 so wonderful to the ignorant, so natural 
 to the initiated his dusky audience were 
 wrought up gradually to the highest pitch 
 of wonderment and alarm and exclama 
 tions half religious, half terror constantly 
 broke from them, which gradually appeared 
 to act on the trick-doctor and excite him to 
 renewed acts. Now and then he cut his 
 eye at the doctor, who appeared to have lost 
 interest in him and was now on the border- 
 207 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 land of a doze. At length, the trick-doctor 
 appeared satisfied. He gave a last shrewd 
 glance at the doctor, whose eyes were almost 
 closed. 
 
 "I feel sure that the evil spirits have been 
 at work. You all see that I have nothing 
 in my hands " He waved them in the 
 dusk, palms down "I will now show 
 you that I was right. The trick has been 
 worked again. I feel sure that I shall find 
 in the mattress the same bag which I dis 
 covered there the other day. Watch the 
 chimney one of you All eyes turned 
 toward the fireplace. He leaned over the 
 bed. 
 
 At this moment there was a slight noise 
 behind him an arm shot by him and his 
 right hand was seized with a grip of iron. 
 "Open the door, Moses," said the doctor 
 "Ah! I thought so Look there." He 
 had given the trick-doctor s arm a wrench 
 which brought the palm into view, and there 
 held fast in the palm by the doctor s firm 
 clutch was a little black bag. The doctor 
 caught it as it dropped on the bed. "Get 
 208 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 out," he said, as he turned the mulatto 
 loose and moved to the door, where with his 
 pocket knife he cut the bag open. It con 
 tained the usual assortment of charms : hair, 
 tacks, a dried frog, a beetle or two, etc., etc. 
 The other occupants crowded about him 
 with wide eyes while he inspected them, but 
 now and then turned their gaze timidly on 
 the sorcerer, who stood glowering in the 
 rear. One or two of them after a moment 
 at a sign from him moved back nearer to 
 him, where he began to whisper to them the 
 explanation that that was a trick which the 
 person who laid the spell sometimes per 
 formed. "You all saw that I didn t have 
 anything in my hand," he whispered sul 
 lenly. 
 
 The doctor caught his meaning if not his 
 words. He turned on him sharply. "Get 
 out," he waved toward the door. "There ll 
 be an officer here for you soon." He stood 
 pointing to the door and the mulatto passed 
 out with an angry gleam in his eye. 
 
 The doctor watched him climb in the 
 buggy with the lean horse and drive slowly 
 down the road into the woods. 
 209 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 Then he turned to the patient. When he 
 finished his examination, he said: "I ll cure 
 her if you keep that rascal away from here 
 if not, he will kill her." 
 
 "Yes, suh, I ll keep him away," said 
 Moses. 
 
 "And if you can t keep him away, I 
 
 can." 
 
 "Yes, suh, I ll keep him away from heah 
 now," said Moses firmly. He had been 
 overawed, hitherto, by his belief in the 
 supernatural ; but now that this terror was 
 disposed of he was on ground that he knew, 
 and was gaining courage every second, as 
 he showed next moment. A whisper and 
 nervous giggle among the women at his 
 back caught his ear. He turned on them 
 "Ain t you got no better manners n dthat?" 
 he demanded sternly. "Don t le me have 
 to speak to you agin and don t any of you 
 try to git dthat man back heah again I 
 don want to have to lay meh han pon 
 none o you cause it s heavy." 
 
 As the women shrank back abashed, he 
 turned again to the doctor. 
 
 "Yes, suh, I ll keep him away from 
 
 210 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 heah," he said, with the dignity of an old 
 chief. "He may git meh chutch; but he 
 won t git dis place not ef evy woman whar 
 wyahs a shif on dthis river perishes." 
 
 "Now, come with me home," said the 
 doctor, "and I will give you something that 
 will cure her. If there is any more trick 
 ing tried, I will take a hand in it myself." 
 
 "Yes, suh," said Moses with conviction 
 "I been see you." He had in mind the 
 doctor s conversation with the skeleton. 
 
 When Moses returned home from the doc 
 tor s he bore with him certain compounded 
 drugs in which that experienced practitioner 
 placed much reliance in cases of malaria and 
 all its attendant troubles. But he had also 
 that in which he himself placed more reli 
 ance. He had got the doctor to find and 
 mark for him in his Bible every reference to 
 the miracles of Moses and to the sorcerer, 
 Simon. For Moses had still one more battle 
 to fight. 
 
 The young mulatto, with his college edu 
 cation and his wonderful performances, had 
 
 211 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 made too deep an impression on the sable 
 element of the community to be disposed of 
 by a single encounter. It was indeed gen 
 erally given out that he had won the con 
 test and established his power. He had cir 
 culated the story that he had found the 
 charm, and the doctor had proved it. The 
 fact that he had had it in his hand all the 
 time was denied by a half-dozen witnesses. 
 The doctor had advised Moses to unmask 
 the rascal and prove to his neighbors and 
 flock how his tricks were performed; but 
 Moses knew a trick worth two of that. He 
 also knew his flock better than the doctor 
 did. He proposed to unmask his rival, but 
 in a way that would relieve him of future 
 peril. Accordingly, he took his own course. 
 For the remainder of that week he plunged 
 in study of the Bible, and only emerged to 
 discourse of the learning and power of his 
 former master, to drop dark hints of his 
 interviews with the dead in the secret sanc 
 tum of his office, and to prophesy as to the 
 wonders that would be shown the following 
 Sunday. 
 
 212 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 Meantime the doctor had some corre 
 spondence with the authorities back in the 
 region from which Dr. Simon Jambers 
 had, according to his own account, come. 
 The result was reassuring and before the 
 end of a week a stranger with a quiet, un 
 emotional face and cold eyes came from 
 the city with a letter to the doctor from his 
 correspondent there. 
 
 "That is not his name," said the detec 
 tive. " His real name is Simon Jones, but he 
 has a number of aliases. If he is the man 
 we want, he is a keen one. He is a great 
 hand at legerdemain and has got piles of 
 money out of the fools that trust him." 
 
 " He is the man," said the doctor. 
 
 "But how can we catch him? He is as 
 sly as a rat." 
 
 "We will find him at church Sunday even 
 ing," said the doctor. "He is to preach 
 there." 
 
 The detective rarely smiled; but he did so 
 now. "He must be the one," he said. 
 
 213 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 III 
 
 THE following Sunday night the large col 
 ored church in the woods which the negroes 
 had first called Mount Zion, but which had 
 come to be known as "Mount Hagar," be 
 cause the doctor had, with some humor, 
 dubbed it "Mount Hagar in the Wilder 
 ness," was packed to more than its capacity. 
 Both within and without its whitewashed 
 walls the sable congregation teemed and 
 steamed. For it was known that that night 
 the old preacher, Brother Moses Johnson, 
 was to preach his farewell sermon. His 
 rival, "Preacher Simon Jambers," whose 
 wonderful powers as a trick-doctor were by 
 report only equalled by his gifts as a 
 preacher, had according to rumor sup 
 planted him, and Moses had to go. The 
 younger man was, it is true, a new-comer, 
 and no one knew much about him; but he 
 had education and he had made a deep im 
 pression on the newly freed congregation. 
 He could read fluently at sight anything 
 shown him, and it was even asserted by 
 214 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 some, mainly on his own testimony, that he 
 could read a "dead language," which only 
 the most learned white people could read. 
 Besides this, he had, according to all re 
 ports, shown powers which no other "colored 
 white-gent man" had ever been known to 
 possess, at least in equal degree. He not 
 only could lay spells which others could 
 do though they were mainly old persons; 
 but he could divine, and he could exorcise 
 in the language of the negroes he could 
 tell if anybody had "put a trick upon you," 
 and "ef you d jest trus him," he could take 
 it off and it was more than half believed 
 that he could "put a trick" or spell on a 
 person himself. With these endowments 
 he was a man of power among the newly 
 freed population of the Bend. 
 
 Had the big preaching at Mount Hagar, 
 at which Moses was to preach his last ser 
 mon, taken place a week earlier, there is no 
 telling what the effect would have been. In 
 the preceding weeks Doctor Simon had as 
 good as ousted Brother Moses from his cure 
 and had so wrought on his flock that there 
 215 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 was great danger that the old man would 
 be driven out of the community, if indeed 
 he did not suffer bodily harm at the hands 
 of his excited flock. The new-comer had 
 begun to regard the old man s place as his 
 own, for at that time it was known through 
 out the neighborhood that the young negro 
 was working in this direction, and with his 
 power to cast spells, few negroes cared to 
 resist him. The last week, however, had 
 brought a certain change in the case. It 
 became known that the doctor the "sho - 
 nough doctor" as they called him had 
 been down to see Jane, the chief object of the 
 new-comer s ministrations, and had openly 
 scouted with derision the idea that he pos 
 sessed any occult powers. "He is just a 
 plain, every-day charlatan and rascal," de 
 clared the doctor to every one he came 
 across. Certainly, something had occurred 
 which had given Moses the power to "stand 
 up against him" and, furthermore, Moses, 
 who had been in abject terror of him, but a 
 week or two before, now appeared not only 
 to fear him no longer, but actually to have 
 216 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 the courage to withstand him. Still, there 
 were many adherents of the new man who 
 stuck to him and contended that he not 
 only had the powers he claimed, but would 
 display them signally the following Sunday 
 night at Mount Hagar. " Jes wait/ 5 they 
 said, and shook their heads ominously at 
 the dire possibilities at which they hinted 
 so mysteriously. 
 
 Thus, long before the hour when the 
 preaching usually began, the grove about 
 the building was filled with vehicles of every 
 description, from old single-stick gigs and 
 rickety, high-pitched carriages, which had 
 somehow survived the war and come into 
 possession of their sable owners, to new 
 buggies, shiny with oil-cloth, and farm wag 
 ons bristling with chairs. The church itself 
 bulged with the congregation, and the sound 
 of intermittent chanting began to arise and 
 float out at the windows with the pungent 
 odor of the " musky, oiled skin of the Kaf 
 fir." The platform was filled with chairs 
 for the inordinately solemn and important- 
 looking elders, mostly with gray hair, and 
 217 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 two larger chairs were placed well to the 
 fore on either side near the pulpit for the 
 rivals. The building could not hold the 
 congregation that had assembled. 
 
 The afternoon had been peculiarly close 
 and sultry with heat-lightning and the dis 
 tant rumble of thunder to the westward, 
 and as the dusk fell the clouds began to 
 deepen along the western horizon and the 
 grumble of thunder took on a deeper and 
 more ominous growl. The young preacher 
 was on the field early in the impressiveness 
 of a black coat and shiny beaver, and with 
 a dazzling watch-chain. His smug air of 
 assurance encouraged his followers and cast 
 a corresponding gloom over the older part 
 of the congregation. 
 
 Moses, however, was later than usual in 
 reaching the church so late, indeed, that 
 before his appearance there was considerable 
 discussion going on as to whether he would 
 appear at all, many declaring that he did not 
 dare to meet the test. He had been seen 
 that afternoon going in the direction of the 
 old doctor s and had not been heard of since. 
 218 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 This report was beginning to take on the 
 form of his having been seen in flight from 
 the neighborhood, when, just after a long 
 rumble of thunder, the old man appeared, 
 coming down a woodland path, with his old 
 high hat and long, flowing coat, his old Bible 
 under his arm and his heavy stick clutched 
 in his hand. As he passed across the rough 
 church-yard, though he acknowledged with 
 a silent bow the half-suppressed greetings of 
 the groups near him, he looked neither to the 
 right nor left. He kept his eyes on the 
 ground as if in deep meditation. Only when 
 he reached the door he turned and scanned 
 the sky up which the dark-blue cloud was 
 steadily mounting then, as if satisfied, he 
 took out his large watch and consulted it 
 thoughtfully, turned and entered the 
 church, and made his way to the platform. 
 It was arranged that the new-comer 
 should read and pray first, and then that 
 Moses should preach. It was Doctor Si 
 mon s own suggestion, and at the appointed 
 time he rose with a flourish and, advancing 
 to the desk, opened the Bible which lay 
 219 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 thereon, and began to flutter the leaves 
 backward and forward till he found the 
 "portion of Scripture" which he proposed to 
 read. His assurance and ease made a 
 marked impression and when in his high 
 nasal tone he proceeded to read fluently in 
 a staccato manner the chapter he had se 
 lected, the entire audience were undoubt 
 edly much impressed. Then he prayed a 
 somewhat discursive and protracted prayer. 
 It was, indeed, possibly too protracted; for 
 the evening was sultry, and there was to 
 ward the end a decided shuffling of feet and 
 restlessness on the part of his auditors, while 
 another portion were too quiet and gradu 
 ally fell into the placidity of slumber. 
 Something had evidently disturbed him. 
 His chief card in particular failed. He ex 
 pressed his gratitude for having been given 
 power to show signs and wonders and to 
 overcome the wiles and evil designs of one 
 who had been deceiving his hearers and 
 whose ignorance he had been able to make 
 manifest. But the same words which on 
 the last Sunday had excited the congrega- 
 220 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 tion to frenzy, now unexpectedly fell almost 
 flat. It manifestly disconcerted him and he 
 began to ramble and repeat himself. He 
 changed his tone and became more threaten 
 ing. At this moment, as he was about to 
 begin his attack which was to thrill his audi 
 ence and sweep them away in the door-way 
 appeared two white men the old doctor and 
 another. The young man had just got well 
 under way when the tall form that he knew 
 so well emerged from the throng in the aisle 
 near the door, followed by a stranger. They 
 were brought up by the elders and were 
 seated on the platform. It was a staggering 
 blow to the young preacher for his prayer 
 dealt largely with a matter which he could 
 not well discuss with freedom before so influ 
 ential a white man as the doctor, not to 
 mention the stranger, who now sat on the 
 other side, a little behind him. He was a 
 spare, vigorous-looking man with a strong, 
 immovable face and a cold eye, and as he 
 sat in his chair he was as detached as fate. 
 He brought a vague association to the new 
 apostle and though Simon could not quite 
 
 221 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 place him, it made him wander and circle 
 in his discourse, and, finally, he closed al 
 most abruptly and sat down. As he took 
 his seat and mopped his face, the congrega 
 tion rustled with expectancy. One of the 
 elders crossed over to old Moses and spoke 
 to him in a low tone. The old preacher 
 took no visible notice of him. He was ap 
 parently as oblivious of his presence as 
 though he had been in a wilderness. He 
 sat as still as if he were in a trance, and the 
 elder had to lean over and take him by the 
 arm before he moved. Then he apparently 
 awoke. He rose with grave deliberation, 
 and without looking at the audience ad 
 vanced slowly to the desk. Here he paused 
 and began a slow and solemn search through 
 his raiment until from some deep and ap 
 parently almost inaccessible recess he ex 
 tracted a large iron spectacle-case. From 
 this he slowly took a pair of large silver- 
 rimmed spectacles, which he solemnly and 
 laboriously adjusted on his nose. It was 
 the Thummim and the Urim of his profes 
 sion and their adjustment partook of a rite. 
 
 222 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 His deliberation and confidence appeared to 
 affect at least a portion of his audience, for 
 first one, then another of the elderly sisters 
 broke forth into exclamations of emotional 
 rapture : "Um-mh! Yes, Lord!" 
 
 To the casual witness the old man might 
 have appeared to take not the least notice 
 of it, as, with profound solemnity, he pro 
 ceeded to turn the leaves of the Bible back 
 and forth, apparently hunting for his text. 
 But a keen observer might have noticed the 
 firmer setting of his strong jaw and the dila 
 tion of his nostrils. Still he took no more 
 notice of the expressive outburst than he did 
 of Simon s sudden shifting in his seat. He 
 appeared wholly detached from them. 
 
 Having marked a number of places to his 
 satisfaction, he turned back toward the be 
 ginning of the Bible and began to speak. 
 "The tenth chapter of the first book of 
 Moses," he announced slowly, and began to 
 read with portentous solemnity the names 
 of the generation of the sons of Noah. He 
 had an abysmal voice and he read the long 
 record of strange names with deep intona- 
 223 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 tion and with an ease which impressed 
 mightily his less literate flock. Having per 
 formed this amazing task, to the manifest 
 wonderment of his hearers, he turned the 
 leaves and found another place. 
 
 "I will now read to you the miracles by 
 which de Lord by de hand of Moses led the 
 children of Israel out of Egypt to de land of 
 Canyan." He read slowly the story of 
 Moses call and the miracle of Aaron s rod 
 swallowing the transformed rods of the 
 magicians. For the first time he lifted his 
 eyes from the book and addressed his audi 
 ence. "De names of dem magicians is not 
 set down hyah in dthis chapter," he said 
 solemnly. "But Gord had em writ down 
 in his everlastin record and when de time 
 comes he will tell em to you." Once more 
 he turned the leaves and read a few verses 
 about Simon the Sorcerer. Again turning a 
 little further on, he read of the seven sons of 
 Sceva, who attempted to exorcise, and of the 
 man jumping on them. He closed the book. 
 "And now," he said, "let us pray." 
 
 He was noted as a "clamorer at de 
 224 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 throne," no less than as a preacher, and, in 
 deed, at times, except that he shut his eyes 
 while engaged in the former exercise, one 
 might have been at some trouble to dis 
 tinguish the one from the other. To-night 
 he was in full power and he had hardly be 
 gun before the effect on his hearers was pro 
 found. Beginning slowly and calmly at 
 first, his sonorous voice soon rose to its full 
 compass, and his utterances became more 
 and more rapid, till the words poured forth 
 in a volume too great for him to catch his 
 breath, and he drew it in as if his throat had 
 been a great suction pipe. Picturing the 
 terrors of torment in lurid terms, he prayed 
 for all before him and he described them 
 all as wicked and condemned and perishing 
 sinners for whom he called on the God of 
 Moses to come and save them from eternal 
 torment and fetch them to the promised land. 
 He followed, in ringing and breathless sen 
 tences, the story of Moses through the 
 journeyings and troubles in the wilderness; 
 dwelt on the rebellion of Korah, Dathan, 
 
 and Abiram, and pictured the terrible death 
 225 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 of all who clave to them and went down 
 quick into the pit. He recalled the fact 
 that only two of all the men that left Egypt 
 as God s chosen people had crossed the Jor 
 dan ; and he pleaded for greater mercy now 
 praying that though God should "shake 
 the rebellious sinners over hell till it singed 
 their eyebrows and blistered their soles," 
 he would not drop them into eternal tor 
 ment. 
 
 The effect on his congregation was imme 
 diate. He was unconsciously using the lan 
 guage of the Psalms and the prophets, and 
 as he intoned his sonorous sentences they 
 began to sway and rock and respond with 
 fervid groans and shouts. 
 
 Then suddenly, as a rumble of thunder 
 rolled into a crash, Moses ceased. 
 
 Rising, he once more went through the 
 rite of adjusting his glasses, opened his Bible 
 and read his text: "And the Lord said unto 
 Moses, Now shalt thou see what I will do 
 to Pharaoh" one more turn of the leaf 
 "And the Lord said unto Moses, Stretch 
 forth thine hand toward heaven that there 
 226 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 may be hail in all the land of Egypt : upon 
 man and upon beast, and upon every herb 
 of the field throughout the land of Egypt." 
 He closed the book and facing slightly 
 toward the west, after a moment, stretched 
 his arm solemnly over Simon s head to 
 where the sound of the thunder was grow 
 ing louder and more instant. It manifestly 
 made a deep impression, for the congrega 
 tion gasped and gazed toward the western 
 windows, where the sky was growing black 
 with the swiftly coming storm. Simon 
 shifted uneasily in his seat and glanced 
 nervously toward the windows like the 
 others. Moses, however, was as calm as 
 the Sphinx. He turned and began to speak 
 in a deep voice. With a simple direct 
 ness he pictured the recent happiness and 
 content of the people in their new freedom 
 and their reliance on God, who had set 
 them free, and their confidence in his word 
 that had plucked them from the eternal tor 
 ments of hell-fire and given them the hope of 
 heaven with its golden streets and its rest 
 beside the waters of comfort. He described 
 227 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 himself as the poor and stammering Moses 
 who had been taken from the wilderness and 
 sent to Pharaoh to bring them out of Egypt 
 and lead them to the promised land But 
 Pharaoh had hardened his heart and had 
 sent and brought his magicians to deceive 
 them and keep them in bondage. 
 
 "And who was this deceiver?" he de 
 manded. "Who was the magician?" He 
 would tell them. He turned to one of the 
 marks in his Bible and read slowly and im 
 pressively the account of Simon the Sor 
 cerer. Closing the book he addressed them 
 again: "Simon not Simon Peter but Si 
 mon the Sorcerer, who had thought that for 
 money he could buy Jehovah Simon who 
 had deceived the people and led them away 
 from Moses led them back toward Egypt 
 back to the place where they were enslaved 
 back to the company of Korah, Dathan, 
 and Abiram, to be swallowed up quick in 
 everlasting fire." His long, rhythmic sen 
 tences, in the very words of the prophecies of 
 Isaiah and Ezekiel, as he denounced curses 
 upon them told on them more and more. He 
 228 
 
Simon shifted uneasily in his seat 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 rang the changes on Simon repeating the 
 name at the end of sentence after sentence 
 Simon who envied the apostles Simon 
 who worked his charms and enchantment 
 and called them miracles which only the 
 apostles could perform Simon, who said 
 there was no hell, and so he could do all his 
 wicked deeds and not be punished "Simon 
 Simon Simon " he repeated, with ever- 
 changing and ringing intonation till the con 
 gregation, thrilled by his resounding voice, 
 rocked and swayed and shouted in unison, 
 while the object of his attack shifted and 
 shrank deep into his chair and tried in vain 
 to appear unmoved. 
 
 "But there were several Simons It 
 would not do to make any mistake about the 
 Sorcerer There was Simon Peter and Si 
 mon Zelotes and Simon the Cyrenian " 
 
 At this moment the young man could 
 stand it no longer He rose suddenly. 
 
 "I hate to interrupt Brother Moses," he 
 
 said, "but my name is neither Simon Peter 
 
 nor Simon Zelotes my name is Simon Jam- 
 
 bers." A murmur of approval from some 
 
 229 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 younger members greeted his interruption 
 but it was hushed instantly as Moses with 
 uplifted hand turned to him. 
 
 "Simon what did you say?" he de 
 manded in a solemn voice " Simon Jones ? " 
 His glance took in the detective (who sud 
 denly appeared to awaken to life) and then 
 rested on Simon. 
 
 "Simon Jambers," said the other in a 
 weakened voice, as the knowledge that he 
 was known came to him. 
 
 "Simon Jambers!" repeated Moses in a 
 deep voice. He turned to the congregation 
 and catching up the big Bible opened it at 
 a mark as if by accident and read slowly: 
 "When Janes and Jambers withstood Mo 
 ses He held the book out till it almost 
 touched Simon s face. "Here it is," he 
 thundered, "set down in de book de very 
 name!" He faced the congregation. "Did 
 n t I tell you Gord had set it down in his 
 everlastin record! Jambers Simon Jam 
 bers!" The stillness could be felt. 
 
 At this moment, after the dead calm, came 
 the racing wind over the trees, whirling the 
 230 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 leaves before it, and shaking the house as if 
 it would tear it from its foundations. 
 
 He turned back to the luckless Simon 
 "Thou spawn of Satan thou offspring of 
 hell and damnation thou hast come back, 
 hast thou, to withstand old Moses and try 
 with thy serpent s guile to deceive this 
 people jes set free and lead em back to 
 bondage to de flames of de fiery furnace! 
 De hell thou hast derided is yawnin for 
 thee even now de torment thou hast been 
 sent from to work dthy evil spells is waitin 
 and blazin and heated seven times seven to 
 scorch and shrivel dthy po yaller body and 
 dthy miserable sin-blackened soul! Thou 
 snake-bearer of Pharaoh and of sin go get 
 thee hence and let my people go!" He 
 suddenly turned and stretched forth his 
 arm with out-pointing, long, lean finger 
 " Behold de pillar of de cloud has come and 
 de pillar of fire is approachin !" 
 
 At this moment the storm broke and a 
 
 peal of thunder, beginning with a terrific 
 
 crash, rolled across the sky, shaking the 
 
 building and startling the shouting and 
 
 231 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 swaying people. Many of them, with nerves 
 already wrung and senses deluged with 
 emotion, cried out in an agony of terror 
 and began to pray aloud. But Moses was 
 in his element. The more blinding the 
 lightning and the louder the crashing of the 
 thunder, the louder he proclaimed the judg 
 ment of Omnipotence against the sin of the 
 sorcerer and all who sided with him. 
 "Don t you hear em comin for him!" he 
 thundered. "Ain t dat de hail dat s rat- 
 tlin and de lightenin a-runnin along de 
 ground?" And as the flashes merged into 
 each other so close were they: "Ain t death 
 a-followin in de track, and ain t dat de fo - 
 runner o de fire of hell a-gleamin and a- 
 comin nigher "an nigher for sinners ev y 
 minute?" And with each successive gust 
 of the tempest and successive crash which 
 rocked the building he called on his people 
 to fall on their knees and repent lest they 
 be swept away, and swallowed up quick like 
 Korah, Dathan, and Abiram. He set the 
 example and prayed fervently for pardon 
 for the ignorant. Was there a Jonah in de 
 232 
 
THE TRICK-DOCTOR 
 
 Ark ? Let em arise and fling him out and 
 save themselves from the wrath to come 
 even dtho the great leviathan of hell was 
 awaitin to swallow him up. 
 
 Whether it was the apt allusion or for 
 some other cause, with a sudden impulse 
 from the overwrought multitude, the cry 
 arose, "Fling him out! Fling him out!" 
 And to the crashing of thunder and the glare 
 of lightning those nearest the pulpit, with a 
 shout, made a rush for the magician. But 
 Simon Jambers did not wait. His nerve 
 had already given way, and, as the wild 
 rush was made for him, with a sudden leap 
 of terror, he dashed for the low window at 
 the side of the platform, sprang through it, 
 and disappeared in the darkness of the 
 storm. 
 
 A moment later the storm appeared to 
 have passed, rolling on in the direction the 
 sorcerer had taken. Moses, who had risen 
 as the rush was made, held up his arm, and 
 the tumult hushed down. 
 
 "De gates of hell was opened wide jes 
 now. Let us pray." 
 
 233 
 
THE OUTCAST 
 
 WE had fallen to talking, in the lawyers 
 room, of the effect of names on character, 
 and my friend, an old counsellor of great 
 distinction, advanced the singular theory 
 that the assassination of Lincoln was di 
 rectly traceable to the fact that the names 
 of the Booths, father and son, were Junius 
 Brutus and John Wilkes. 
 
 "I had a college mate named Brutus," he 
 said after a moment of reflection, "and by a 
 strange fate his life also appeared to have 
 followed the line of historical parallels. * 
 
 On being pressed for further explanation 
 he told the following story. 
 
 "He was a marked man at college, with 
 a force, both of body and mind, which had 
 something of the sheer brute in it," said my 
 friend, with a pull at his pipe, " and with 
 an independence of intellect rather unusual 
 among such gregarious animals as youth. 
 234 
 
THE OUTCAST 
 
 He was so independent and judicial in his 
 views that we used to call him the judge 
 even then. 
 
 "His countenance indicated his character 
 resolution and strength capable of an 
 extreme in both virtue and vice a broad 
 brow, a powerful jaw, a large, mobile, rather 
 sensual mouth, a strong nose, and piercing, 
 dark, searching eyes. His hobby was phi 
 losophy, and he was the only man of our set 
 that knew it even by its name. He read 
 for pleasure Greek and German philosophy. 
 He was fond of discussing ethics and he 
 pronounced himself a man of high moral 
 ity, though he certainly was not one accord 
 ing to ordinary standards. He declared the 
 Mosaic code an elaborate and even a com 
 plicated one, and used to say that Christ had 
 substituted for it a code at once simple and 
 complete. He had reduced ten command 
 ments to two love of God and love of your 
 neighbor as yourself; all the rest he declared 
 an elaboration, and human. 
 
 "I recall even now his discussion on one 
 occasion of the relative importance of vari- 
 235 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 ous forms of utility to the human race. 
 Riches, he declared to be the most sordid 
 conception of the human intelligence; while 
 law was the loftiest. But of all forms, he 
 maintained that the essential one was the 
 propagation of species that it was the true 
 motive of all the ceremonial of civilization 
 that the maternal instinct was the chief 
 force which had led to civilization, and 
 would continue to advance it, and that the 
 paternal instinct, which was largely de 
 veloped only in man, was the next driving 
 force. He further held that the obligation 
 on the man was morally as strong in the 
 case of illegitimacy as in the case of legiti 
 mate children. It was sheer cowardice, he 
 declared, which prompted a man to disown 
 one. I remember the heat I might almost 
 say passion with which he maintained 
 this view due, possibly, to the fact, which 
 he mentioned, that he was the last of his 
 family, and, so far as he knew, had not a 
 relative in the world. He often declared 
 he was as lonely as Adam. 
 
 "When we started at the bar, his powers 
 236 
 
THE OUTCAST 
 
 soon enabled him to outstrip the rest of us. 
 He went to the capital and after a few years 
 he was spoken of as the coming man of the 
 State, unless his dissipation, which was be 
 ginning to be a good deal talked of, should 
 bar his advance. Finally, his life became 
 such that most of his friends, while they 
 deplored his abandonment, were obliged to 
 withdraw their intimacy. 
 
 "He formed a connection, which was ex 
 ceedingly disturbing to those who had en 
 joyed his society, and had looked to him to 
 become the ornament of the bar. He be 
 came infatuated with the woman in ques 
 tion, a courtesan, by name, Antoinette 
 Lapine, a woman of French extraction, as 
 her name might imply, with marks of not 
 able beauty still left in her trim figure, and 
 her delicate features the nose rather long, 
 lips full, the hair unusually abundant and 
 glossy, and a sort of feline, almost serpen 
 tine, suppleness in her movements. Where 
 she came from none of his friends ever knew, 
 but from the first time he met her he ap 
 peared to have fallen completely under her 
 237 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 sway, and the connection between them 
 soon became so notorious that he was not 
 only excluded from all decent society, but 
 was dropped by all of those who had claimed 
 his friendship. 
 
 "He set up an establishment for her, hav 
 ing taken her out of the eh establishment 
 where he first discovered her, and devoted 
 himself to her so completely that he became 
 the talk of the town, and was finally ostra 
 cised, as I say, by all except those who had 
 known him in his youth, and even we held 
 merely a nominal association with him. 
 
 "It was even said that he had married 
 her. I think this debasement was the coup- 
 de-grace which finally sent him down. So 
 ciety will tolerate much; but not this. I 
 did not know at the time whether this report 
 were true or not. (It turned out not to be 
 true.) About that time I moved West, and 
 our association ceased. It was years after 
 ward that I first heard, from a younger man, 
 of his later career his recovery and subse 
 quent rehabilitation and success. He had 
 broken off his illicit connection ; had married 
 238 
 
THE OUTCAST 
 
 soon afterward, and his wife had died. He 
 had been promoted to the bench, where he 
 had promptly made a name. 
 
 " There was some sort of scandal con 
 nected with him, said my young friend. 
 A woman had been infatuated with him 
 killed herself for him. I think he had 
 broken off with her some months before. 
 But that was twenty years ago before my 
 time. They say he never However, I 
 know nothing of the truth of that. He had 
 an unhappy marriage I believe, and, after 
 his wife s death, never married again. He 
 is now the sternest of moralists, a terror to 
 evil-doers, and the proudest man on earth/ 
 
 " What sort of judge has he proved? I 
 asked. 
 
 " They call him a just judge; but very 
 stern/ 
 
 "His name is Brutus, I observed. 
 "I never thought of that, said he. 
 
 "A year or two afterward I happened to 
 
 go back East, and visited my old home, only 
 
 to find the sad disappointment which one 
 
 is sure to find if one stays away too long. 
 
 239 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 Everything was altered. The houses where 
 I had once been intimate had mostly 
 changed hands. The men I had once known 
 well had died or become absorbed in matters 
 to which I was indifferent. The women I 
 had admired had grown old and fat or lean. 
 It was altogether a sad visit for me, and the 
 saddest part of it all was to feel that I, my 
 self, had changed. I determined, therefore, 
 to cut the visit short, but, having learned 
 that my old friend s court was in session, 
 and that an interesting case the trial of a 
 young woman for murder was before him, 
 which appeared to cause considerable ex 
 citement in the town, I sauntered up to the 
 court-house and entered the room soon after 
 the case was called. 
 
 "The room was filled with the usual non 
 descript mainly morbid crowd that packs 
 a court-room on such occasions with the 
 bodies and stench of humanity. A little 
 extra civility, however, coupled with the 
 statement that I was a friend of the judge s 
 who had called to see him, and proposed to 
 send him my card at the first recess, secured 
 240 
 
THE OUTCAST 
 
 me a seat well in front to one side, where I 
 could see and hear everything. 
 
 "I was soon informed as to the facts of 
 the case by my next neighbor, an alert 
 young attorney who had been drawn thither 
 partly by interest in the case, but mainly by 
 curiosity to witness a duel which he said was 
 sure to take place between the opposing 
 counsel, who, he informed me, were about 
 the two cleverest young lawyers at the bar. 
 
 "From his account it appeared that the 
 girl, who had some marks of beauty, was a 
 young woman of the town, by name, Netta 
 Thorne, who had become attached to a 
 young man of some social position, who, 
 after having been infatuated with her for a 
 time, had finally thrown her over to marry. 
 As he was on the point of marrying a young 
 lady in his own set, the girl, after vainly en 
 deavoring to win him back, had sought him 
 out and shot him dead. Possibly she might 
 have escaped, for no one saw the deed com 
 mitted, but, instead, she had sat quietly be 
 side the body till the police came, when she 
 had given herself up, openly confessing the 
 241 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 deed and expressing her readiness to suffer 
 the penalty of the law. When interrogated 
 as to her motive, her only reply was, I 
 loved him, and could not give him up/ 
 
 " She wanted to plead guilty, said my 
 young informant, but the judge would not 
 allow it. He knows his business. He 
 ordered her plea withdrawn and appointed 
 that young man there beside her to defend 
 her. He isn t afraid. But it is a dead open- 
 and-shut case; he hasn t a point. You see, 
 she confessed everything, and she murdered 
 him all right, too. All he can do is to throw 
 himself on the mercy of the court, and God 
 have mercy on her soul! The old judge 
 there is of cast-iron! Besides, society must 
 be protected. He knows it. 
 
 "I took a good look at the judge, and, in 
 truth, he appeared so. His proud, stern 
 face was set like stone, his bulky frame, 
 crowned by his massive head with its large 
 features, gave an impression of strength, 
 which might have been one of mere brute 
 force but for the powerful chin, stern mouth, 
 clear, bold, calm eyes, and commanding 
 242 
 
THE OUTCAST 
 
 brow, which stamped it with intellectual 
 power. There was not a line of weakness, 
 and hardly one from which might be argued 
 the possibility of pity. The passion I had 
 known in his youth had petrified into rock. 
 He was simply a steel machine. 
 
 Not cast-iron, but steel/ I said to my 
 young neighbor. 
 
 He is a just judge/ said he. He will 
 maintain the law! Society must be pro 
 tected/ 
 
 "I turned at this moment to look at the 
 prisoner. She was a sad young thing (with 
 marks of beauty of the Gallic type still 
 left). She was sitting listlessly, sunk in an 
 armchair provided for her to support her 
 drooping frame, and of all the multitude 
 she appeared to be the one least interested 
 in what was taking place around her of all, 
 she and the judge appeared the most de 
 tached. She was a picture of mere woe. 
 Dressed in a sort of dull black, which added 
 to her pallor, her slender shoulders drooped 
 as though under a weight; the white, thin, 
 delicate and rather shapely hands lay list- 
 243 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 lessly in her lap. Her dark, weary eyes 
 were downcast, and her long dark lashes 
 rested on her wan cheeks, giving an air of 
 abject wretchedness and indescribable lone 
 liness. She had the look of one who had wept 
 the fountain of tears dry. Even when her 
 counsel, from time to time during the secur 
 ing of the jury, leant over and spoke to her, 
 her countenance expressed no change; she 
 simply shook her head slowly a barely per 
 ceptible recognition of his presence. 
 
 "He was a striking-looking, slim youth, 
 with a fine brow, deep eyes, and a mobile, 
 sensitive mouth, set somewhat firmly, and 
 his pallor under the excitement of the case 
 so weighty added to his interesting appear 
 ance. 
 
 "The jury secured, the indictment was 
 read, and the girl was asked to plead. She 
 said nothing. On being ordered to stand, 
 she merely rose unsteadily to her feet and 
 stood drooping. She did not even raise her 
 eyes. She had the helpless quietude of a 
 bound animal. Her counsel leant over to 
 ward her and said something. Then she 
 244 
 
THE OUTCAST 
 
 lifted her eyes for a moment and looked at 
 the judge above her, his stern eyes fastened 
 on her calmly, and her lips moved. Guilty/ 
 she said, in what was rather like the shadow 
 of speech than speech itself. The judge 
 leant forward, his hand behind his ear. 
 
 " What? 
 
 " She pleads "Not guilty/" said the 
 young lawyer at her side. The judge sat 
 back and the jury shifted in their seats. 
 
 " Enter a plea of "Not guilty/ said the 
 judge sternly, and the trial proceeded. 
 
 "The attorney for the commonwealth 
 presented his case clearly and forcibly. He 
 was a man of ability and he knew the power 
 of the enginery of the law that he com 
 manded. It was a clear case/ he said, and, 
 unhappily, not an unprecedented one. The 
 prisoner was a woman of evil life, a law 
 breaker by profession, a courtesan who had 
 drawn a young man of good standing into 
 her net, and, when, awaking to his folly, he 
 strove to escape from her toils and lead a 
 reputable life, she had boldly followed him 
 up and maliciously shot him down, almost, 
 as it were, on the very steps of the altan 
 245 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 There was no question as to the facts, any 
 more than there was as to the law. Society 
 must be protected he should ask the high 
 est penalty of the law. 
 
 "As he sat down, the throng in the court 
 room rustled approval. 
 
 "The witnesses were examined enough 
 and to spare, for the deed had been done 
 openly. The prisoner s former life was 
 shown, from her earliest girlhood the life 
 of a common creature of the pavement. 
 Then came the connection with the young 
 man she had subsequently killed, his aban 
 donment of her on the eve of his marriage, 
 and then the tragedy, as it was usually 
 spoken of. She had left her place and had 
 sought out her former lover, and, after a 
 stormy scene, had killed him, and then had 
 calmly awaited the arrival of the police and 
 had according to the officer put on the 
 stand to prove her confession Boasted of 
 her crime. 
 
 "The young counsel for the prisoner, who 
 up to this time had scarcely spoken a word, 
 was on his feet in a second. 
 
 " Boasted of what crime? 
 246 
 
THE OUTCAST 
 
 " The murder/ 
 
 " What murder? His voice was very 
 quiet, but very clear. 
 
 " The murder of 
 
 " Stop, sir! and from his deep eyes 
 leaped a flame like a sudden drawn sword. 
 She never boasted of murder. If you let 
 that word pass your lips I, myself, will 
 swear out a warrant against you for perjury, 
 and prove it on you by every officer that 
 was present that night. She never used that 
 word. Whether there shall have been a 
 murder committed is a secret locked in the 
 bosoms of those twelve men. This young 
 thing here, is at this moment, as free from 
 the crime of murder as you are, and I am an 
 officer of the law appointed by the court to 
 see that she has the protection of the law. 
 She shall have it this day by the help of 
 God. He leant over and instinctively put 
 his hand on her shoulder and drew her 
 toward him, and she instinctively or from 
 sheer weakness leant against him. Every 
 one sat up to peer at them. The trial sud 
 denly entered on a new phase. I became 
 247 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 aware of a peculiar vibrant quality in his 
 voice, that began to thrill the crowd, and 
 stir the nerves. He soon had the officer ex 
 plaining that he meant that she confessed to 
 the shooting of her lover. 
 
 "Only one witness appeared at all friendly 
 to the prisoner; that is, not utterly hostile 
 to her an old woman with an inaudible 
 voice connected with a house of refuge, 
 who on cross-examination testified that she 
 had seen her feeding the squirrels in a public 
 square, and that she had told her of her 
 childhood and her first acquaintance with, 
 and subsequent love for, the man she had 
 afterward killed. She had come once to the 
 house of refuge, but her infatuation for the 
 young man, who had written to her, had 
 drawn her away again. There was put in 
 evidence, a letter which the girl had written 
 speaking of her madness for her lover and 
 declaring that she could not live without 
 him. The witness had known her mother 
 before her a poor creature, who, like this 
 girl, had gone wrong, and had come to an 
 untimely end. What was her mother s 
 248 
 
THE OUTCAST 
 
 name? asked the prisoner s counsel. She 
 
 was known as . She spoke so low that 
 
 no one could catch the name except the 
 prisoner s counsel, who leant forward with 
 his hand behind his ear. 
 
 " The name makes no difference. She 
 was a harlot, like her daughter? demanded 
 the prosecuting attorney sharply. 
 
 " Yes, sir. 
 
 The prisoner s counsel started to rise; 
 but the judge, whose attention had been 
 distracted for a moment, said firmly: The 
 name is immaterial, and he kept his seat, 
 but a second later said: It may or it may 
 not be. I rule that it is/ said the judge 
 sternly. 
 
 "I will reserve the point/ nodded the 
 young counsellor, looking him in the eye. 
 
 "This was the last witness, as the young 
 counsel said simply that he had no other 
 witnesses to examine. 
 
 "It seemed a clear case of murder, and the 
 crowd evidently felt it to be so. There 
 could be but one verdict; and so they mani 
 festly declared in a murmur which spread 
 249 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 all over the court-room, until the judge 
 sternly demanded silence. The instructions 
 asked were elaborate and strong on the side 
 of the people; on the other side, only one 
 instruction was asked and even this was not 
 argued. It was on the point of reasonable 
 cause. The counsel for the State rose and 
 spoke briefly but strongly, going over the 
 ground that he had laid out in his opening 
 statement, and calling the jury s attention 
 to the evidence adduced and the testimony 
 of witnesses who were on the side of the 
 State. He closed by saying: Society must 
 be protected/ 
 
 "Then, as he took his seat, the young 
 counsel for the prisoner rose. 
 
 " He will throw his client on the mercy 
 of the court, muttered the young man at 
 my side. But not so. He began to speak. 
 He had no other witnesses for the defence, 
 he said, than those already examined. His 
 client was quite alone in the world the only 
 friends she had were the squirrels she had 
 fed, who could not testify on her behalf to 
 her tender heart even the poor harlots in 
 
 250 
 
THE OUTCAST 
 
 the kennel that was the only home she had 
 ever known, were afraid to testify for her/ 
 
 "Then he went on elementally: the 
 counsel for the State had said that she was 
 a harlot and could not claim the defence of 
 outraged womanhood ; she was a harlot and 
 had no womanliness to protect; she was a 
 harlot and had no outraged virtue to avenge, 
 no pride to inspire her to the deed. It was 
 simply murder cold-blooded murder. She 
 had followed up and killed a man who had 
 been kind to her wilfully, deliberately, and 
 maliciously. He discussed Malice for a mo 
 ment, and then, with a gesture, threw it 
 aside, and came to the facts. 
 
 "It was quite true that she was a denizen 
 of a brothel an outcast more, she was the 
 child of a brothel. Her mother was an out 
 cast before her. But there was something 
 in woman stronger than pride, stronger 
 than virtue, stronger than life the one 
 thing that had advanced the world. This 
 was Love, and it had come to this poor creat 
 ure how, he did not know, but it had come 
 even in the kennel in which she had lived. 
 251 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 It had lifted her out of the reek in which she 
 had been born, and had placed her in a new 
 world that was a new Heaven to her. A 
 young man not a very strong one, nor a 
 good one, had come into her life and had 
 opened a new world to her, a Heaven un 
 dreamed of before the Heaven of Love. 
 Weak as he was, he had created in her a 
 heart. He was her God. She would have 
 washed his feet in her heart s blood and have 
 dried them with the tendrils of her soul. 
 She withdrew herself from other men for his 
 sake from her companion outcasts. She 
 struggled to hold onto her heaven, to be 
 worthy of it, to be chaste in spirit, to be 
 true to him, and, as she struggled and held 
 on with all her new-born soul, he, the God 
 of her idolatry, had taken her and dropped 
 her back bodily into hell. As she clung to 
 his feet he had torn loose her hands and 
 kicked her back into perdition, and she in 
 her frenzy had slain him. And now she 
 was being tried for this act how and by 
 whom? By the law not the law of God, 
 which had been quoted Christ forgave the 
 252 
 
THE OUTCAST 
 
 Magdalene and she wept with His mother at 
 His cross. No, she is tried by the law of 
 society, by the tribunal established by soci 
 ety, by society itself, which, in its hypoc 
 risy, cast her out. 
 
 "It is a poor summary of what he said 
 that I give. It was the man, not the words. 
 
 " What chance/ he demanded, did she 
 have ; what chance had she ever had ? She 
 had been foredoomed from her birth; pre 
 ordained to the life that she had led. What 
 had society or law ever done for her ? They 
 had banished her to her foul den while they 
 prayed and sang, and locked her in it as in 
 a ghetto of perdition. 
 
 " Her story was a simple one. She was 
 conceived in sin; she was the child of a har 
 lot, and of whom ? He did not know. Of 
 some man like this one, who had taken her 
 up for his pleasure, and for his pleasure had 
 cast her off. The tragedy of life had but 
 repeated itself in this case. Her mother, 
 like her, had been an outcast and, like her, 
 had been given a glimpse of heaven through 
 a man s love, and had seized upon it with 
 253 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 her famished soul. Like her, she had been 
 betrayed, and, like her, at the instance of 
 society had been dropped back into per 
 dition with her child by that child s father, 
 whoever he might be. In her despair she 
 had destroyed herself. This child is the 
 daughter of despair/ 
 
 "He stood away from her and left her 
 in a space all by herself a pitiful, little, 
 shrunken wisp of a girl. There she sits/ he 
 said, with his eyes on her, ( the embodiment, 
 the incarnation of all the wrongs of woman 
 hood throughout the ages image of the 
 holiest creation of God; born with the in 
 nocence of the babe, stamped with beauty, 
 formed for motherhood. Abandoned by 
 her father. Soiled, defiled by man for his 
 mere pleasure; victim of his brutality; 
 ruined for his lust; cast out for his selfish 
 ness, trampled on for his hypocrisy, and at 
 last slain for his revenge. You may take 
 her; she is wholly in your power. You may 
 bind her little feet with irons, and strangle 
 her poor voice with your instruments of 
 vengeance, but by the justice of God, which 
 254 
 
THE OUTCAST 
 
 has been invoked here to-day, I forbid you 
 to do it in the name of Him who knew the 
 lives of those men who dragged before Him 
 the sinning women taken for a death crime, 
 and spared the Magdalene, and vouchsafed 
 to her the first sight of His resurrected face. 
 You may slay her and think to divide the 
 responsibility among you; but each man of 
 you must bear this alone, for one voice will 
 save her, and when each of you has sent 
 her to death, each of you shall one day meet 
 her again when you shall stand yourself at 
 that Bar to answer alone to that Judge to 
 whom you shall have sent her to witness 
 against you. He knows your lives, your 
 hearts, and He will judge you. He knows 
 who is this poor outcast s father. He may 
 be living, or he may be dead, but he cannot 
 escape Him! He ceased for a moment, 
 then recommenced: 
 
 I know not who that father is or was, 
 but if he be alive I summon him in the name 
 of God to the bar of this court to defend his 
 daughter s life. Though he be a member of 
 this jury or the judge, there, on this bench 
 255 
 
THE LAND OF THE SPIRIT 
 
 (he turned and faced the judge) I summon, 
 in the name not of mercy, but of justice, 
 the lover of Antoinette Lapine, whose 
 daughter s life stands in jeopardy this day, 
 because of his abandonment of her/ 
 
 "Thrilled by his passionate appeal, I saw 
 a strange look come suddenly over his face 
 and fix his gaze in an indescribable realiza 
 tion of a sudden revelation. I looked at 
 the same moment at the judge, and I 
 saw the whole terrible truth suddenly sweep 
 over him like a flood. His head stretched 
 forward. His staring eyes were fastened 
 on the prisoner s face. His bloodless lips 
 moved. Antoinette Lapine ! he whispered. 
 His sins had risen up against him. His face 
 was the hue of death. It was his own 
 daughter, harlot and murderess, who stood 
 at his bar." 
 
 My friend ceased speaking, and, before 
 any of us could interrupt him, he had put 
 his pipe in his pocket and turned to the door, 
 saying quietly: "Good-night, gentlemen." 
 
 "But, Colonel, what did the judge do?" 
 256 
 
THE OUTCAST 
 
 we asked. But all he said was : " Good-night, 
 young gentlemen. To understand human 
 nature you must read the annals of your 
 profession." 
 
 END. 
 
 257 
 
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 LD 21A-50m-9, 58 
 (6889slO)476B 
 
 General Library 
 
 University of Californi* 
 
 Berkeley