Janet's Love and Service. Margaret M. Robertson
pay my minister’s tax with that sugar, and I don’t know as I’ve got anything else handy. I’ll leave it, and if you don’t conclude to keep it, you better speak to the deacon about it, and maybe he’ll give you the money for it. I’ll leave it anyhow.”
“But you’ll no leave it here,” exclaimed Mrs. Nasmyth, whose patience was not proof against his persistence, and seizing the bucket, she rushed out at the door, and depositing it in the sleigh, was in again before the astonished Mr. Spears quite realised her intention.
“You’ll no’ find me failing in my duty to the minister, as I hae done before,” exclaimed she, a little breathless with the exertion. “If the minister canna hae his stipend paid in good siller as he has been used wi’, he shall at least hae nae trash like yon. So dinna bring here again what ither folk winna hae from you, for I’ll hae none o’ it.”
“I should like to see the minister a minute,” said Mr. Spears, seating himself with dignity. “I don’t consider that you are the one to settle this business.”
“There’s many a thing that you dinna consider that there’s sense in, notwithstanding. It’s just me that is to decide this business, and a’ business where the minister’s welfare, as regards meat and drink, is concerned. So dinna fash yourself and me mair about it.”
“I’d like to see him, anyhow,” said he, taking a step towards the study-door.
“But you’ll no’ see him about any such matter,” and Janet placed herself before him. “I’m no’ to hae the minister vexed with the like o’ that nonsense to-night, or any night. I wonder you dinna think shame, to hold up your face to me, forby the minister. What kens the minister about the like o’ that? He has other things to think about. It’s weel that there’s aye me to stand between him and the like o’ your ‘glegs and corbies’.”—And Janet, as her manner was when excited, degenerated into Scotch to such a degree, that her opponent forgot his indignation in astonishment, and listened in silence. Janet was successful. Mr. Spears was utterly nonplussed, and took his way homeward, by no means sure that he hadn’t been abused! “Considerable beat, anyhow.”
Scarcely had he taken his departure, when Mr. Elliott made his appearance, having had some idea that something unusual had been going on. Though loth to do so, Janet thought best to give a faithful account of what had taken place. He laughed heartily at her success and Mr. Spears’ discomfiture, but it was easy to see he was not quite at his ease about the matter.
“I am at a loss to know how all this will end,” he said, gravely, after a minute.
“Indeed, sir, you need be at no loss about that. It will end in a ‘toom pantry’ for us, and that before very long.”
This was the beginning of a conversation with regard to their affairs, that lasted till the children came home. Much earnest thought did the minister bestow on the subject for the next three days, and on the evening of the fourth, at the close of a full conference meeting, when most of the members of the church were present, the result of his meditations was given to the public. He did not use many words, but they were to the point.
He told them of the settlement for the past, and the prospect for the future. He told them that the value to his family of the articles brought in, was not equal to their value, as named in the subscription-lists, their real value he supposed. They could not live in comfort on these terms, and they should never try it. He had a proposal to make to them. The deacon had estimated that an annual amount equal to seven hundred dollars could be raised. Let each subscriber deduct a seventh part of what he had promised to pay, and let the remainder be paid in money to the treasurer, so that he might receive his salary in quarterly payments. This would be the means of avoiding much that was annoying to all parties, and was the only terms on which he would think it wise to remain in Merleville.
He alluded to a report that had lately reached him, as to his having money invested in Scotland. In the hand of a friend he had deposited sufficient to defray the expenses of his eldest son, until his education should be completed. He had no more. The comfort of his family must depend upon his salary; and what that was to be, and how it was to be paid, must be decided without loss of time.
He said just two or three words about his wish to stay, about the love he felt for many of them, and of his earnest desire to benefit them all. He had no other desire than to cast in his lot with theirs, and to live and die among them. But no real union or confidence could be maintained between them, while the matter of support was liable at any moment to become a source of discomfort and misunderstanding to all concerned. He added, that as so many were present, perhaps no better time than to-night could be found for arranging the matter, and so he left them.
There was quite a gathering that night. Judge Merle was there, and the deacons, and the Pages, and Mr. Spears, and a great many besides. Behind the door, in a corner seat, sat Mr. Snow, and near him, Mr. Greenleaf. He evidently felt he was not expected to remain, and made a movement to go, but Sampson laid his hand on his arm.
“Hold on, Squire,” he whispered; “as like as not they’d spare us, but I’m bound to see this through.”
There was a long pause. Then Deacon Fish got up and cleared his throat, and “felt as though he felt,” and went over much ground, without accomplishing much. Deacon Slowcome did pretty much the same. Judge Merle came a little nearer the mark, and when he sat down, there was a movement behind the door, and Sampson Snow rose, and stepped out. He laid his hand on the door latch, and then turned round and opened his lips.
“I expect you’ll all think it ain’t my place to speak in meetin’, and I ain’t goin’ to say a great deal. It’s no more than two hours or so since I got home from Rixford, and Squire Stone, he told me that their minister had given notice that he was goin’ to quit. Goin’ to Boston, I guess. And the Squire, says he to me, ‘We’ve a notion of talking a little to your Mr. Elliott,’ and says he, ‘We wouldn’t begrudge him a thousand dollars cash down, and no mistake.’ So now don’t worry any about the minister. He’s all right, and worth his pay any day. That’s all I’ve got to say,” and Mr. Snow opened the door and walked out.
Sampson’s speech was short, but it was the speech of the evening, and told. That night, or within a few days, arrangements were made for the carrying out of the plan suggested by Mr. Elliott, with this difference, that the seventh part was not to be deducted because of money payment. And the good people of Merleville did not regret their promptitude, when the very next week there came a deputation from Rixford, to ascertain whether Mr. Elliott was to remain in Merleville, and if not, whether he would accept an invitation to settle in the larger town.
Mr. Elliott’s answer was brief and decided. He had no wish to leave Merleville while the people wished him to remain. He hoped never to leave them while he lived. And he never did.
Chapter Thirteen.
Spring came and went. The lads distinguished themselves both for the quantity and quality of their sugar, and highly enjoyed the work besides. The free out-of-door life, the camping in the woods beside a blazing fire, and the company of the village lads who daily and nightly crowded around them, charmed them from all other pursuits. Mr. Foster and his mathematics were sadly neglected in these days. In future they were to devote themselves to agriculture.
In vain Janet hinted that “new things aye pleased light heads,” and warned them that they were deciding too soon. In vain Mr. Snow said that it was not sugaring time all the year; and that they should summer and winter among the hills before they committed themselves to a farmer’s life. Harry quoted Cincinnatus, and Norman proved to his own satisfaction, if not to Mr. Snow’s, that on scientific principles every farm in Merleville could be cultivated with half the expense, and double the profits. Even their father was carried away by their enthusiasm; and it is to be feared, that if he had had a fortune to invest, it would have been buried for ever among these beautiful hills of Merleville.
An