The courier. (Lincoln, Neb.) 1894-1903, July 06, 1901, Page 9, Image 10
THE COURIER. F y i, 1 i r BROTHER WALTON. KATHARINE MELIOK. For The Courier. The little country school house was dimly lighted. The lamps flickered IL along the walls and seemed to be trying I . . ... Kantr tha Hnrlr niohtfhnt. InnWnrl in at the windows. The worn desks shone faintly, and the faces of the little company assembled there shone yet more faintly, fired heads drooped. The little prayer meeting waB lagging pt a slower pace than usual. Presently, from a dim corner, a stran ger rose. "Brethren," he said, "I'm not ac quainted with you, but I'm acquainted with God.'" The voice was thin, but piercing. It was not a large voice, but it did not come from a large man. It rose higher as he went on, "Why, bless you, he's my captain. Praise llis name! I've served under Him for nigh on to twenty-five year. Hallelujah ! I've got my marchin' orders an' I'm goin' on, sure of victory. I'm a minute man fer God. Bless his name ! That's what he wante in his army, be- loveds. We must always be ready to fire a shot at sin and Satan. Amen! Praise the Lord!" The enthusiasm of the speaker had carried bis tones almost to a shriek. He sat down and began to sing in a hoarse voice. "Am I a soldier of the cross" "Who ib he?'' waB the unspoken thought of every mind, as one after an other followed the injunction of the little stranger to be "minute men." "I wonder if it isn't the man that's f rented Uncle Abram's place?" said Phineaa Benton to himself, as the con gregation filed out into the cool, dark night. Must be he's been in the army. He don't walk like a farmer. Well, if it is, we'll have him for a neighbor." The next morning two rosy cheeked, T smiling little lads marched up to Farm er Benton's door, and asked for "the loan of a hammer." They belonged to the new neighbor, "Brother Walton," they gravely explained, and then, catch ing a roguish twinkle in Tommy Ben ton's eye, were convulsed with snickers. The farmer looked after them, half pitiogly, as they went away. The man that takes Uncle Abram's place has no easy time of it," he said to his wife. "Them little lads won't have so gay a time as they're a-countin on." The little lads had no easy time, truly. Farmer Benton often pitied them as he saw them toiling through the fields be hind plow or cultivator. "They ought to be in school," he said to himself. "It's hard enough for a man to have to work like that, but they're too young. He might take some thought for them, if he don't for himself. He always brings them to meetin', too. I'll "'Varrant they'd a heap sooner stay to home an' rest." Whatever the little Waltons would "sooner" have done, they did as their father bade them. Their love for their mother, dear old Mother Walton, with her great, loving heart and her great, portly frame, was unmixed with thiB fear that their father inspired. The old soldier had learned to obey orders, and he proposed to have bis sons do like wise. OneThursday evening Phineaa Benton took hiB way to the little Bchool house elowly and wearily. His son Tommy went with him, for he had a matter of special importance to communicate to the Walton boys. Brother Walton was already in his accustomed place, and Tommy soon dis covered his friends in a cozy dark cor ner. He sat down beside them and entered into an animated discussion about a ball team that their school was organizing. Ine wmspers grew ioua and louder, bis head. "Boys,"' he prayer, even menced. Let us sing 'We're Marching in a most worldly, unorthodox fashion, to ZionV whi!o he sung. u b me house of Bchool,1' whispered 4,.T . .,.,-.., Johnny Walton as soon as hi, father's NE&J2& Brothor Walton turned foolishly. One ovening ho strode into the little meeting with his collar fast -said, "thie is a house of ened at the back, but no further. The if services hasn't com- ends curved ud amoni? his curlinc locka brood, I I head was turned, and Tommy snickered, but John had already rolled up his eyes and was singing at the top of his voice. "Let those refuse to sing," rose the Btrain, and Johnny looked at his friend bo solemnly that poor Tom giggled again, cane, stopped However, the singing drowned such house minor discords, and soon the order of service changed. It has been said that Farmer Benton waB weary. Perhaps that was why, when they knelt to pray, be dropped on one knee. Perhaps it was a mere acci dent. At any rate, what was bis amaze ment to hear an earnest supplication rise, "Oh, Lord, help us to get down on both knees before thee!" Phineaa remembered little more of that petition. He looked down from his tall height upon the slight form of the petitioner, when the service was closed, and involuntarily straightened himself at the Bight of that erect figure. Those shoulders had never beet to the storms of life. The eyes that had looked through the smoke of battle were un dimmed. "It's just his way," thought the good natured farmer. "I've no call to be put out." He thought of those words again when, some months after, be passed Uncle Abram's farm and saw hiB neigh- 80 well." bor marching behind a cultivator, sing ing at the top of his voice: "Are there no foes for me to fact, Must I not stem the flood ; Is this vile world a friend to grace To help me on to God." "He's missed his profession," thought Phineas Benton; yet when autumn came Brother Walton's cribs and barns were filled to overflowing, and his toil worn hand, when it grasped that of his, left there a note for an amount that would have made his easy-going neigh bor stare. Brother Walton did not believe in pride. He often addressed young peo ple u'pon the folly of spending valuable time before a "lookin' glass." The good brother seldom spent bis own time so One winter day a tierce storm swept over the little school house, and Tommy, "He's mighty spry fer his ago, an' bein' his health's broken," thought tho watcher. "He'll Bonn have that pieco ready for piantin' But-what-in-Sam Hill is he up to? Has he found suthin in the furrow? Or Well, I will-be-bumfisticated! Pray in', as I'm a sinner! That does beat me!" The farmer walked down the road. Down in the furrowtho lines in ono grimy hand, the other on the handle of with several other children, unable to the plow, Brother Walton was kneeling. make his way home against the hurri- at Brother Walton's "Come in, come in and welcome!" cried the little man. "Praise the Lord we have a roof over our heads this awful night." Tommy looked at him and wondered why he bad thought Johnny's father cross. He watched the farmer wrap himself up and go with his boyB to make the horses and cows and pigs com fortable. He saw him, presently, come staggering up through the snow with a heavy burden. "Got room for one more, mother?" he railed at the door, aa his wife hast ened to let him in, and then Tommy saw him holding a little Iamb in his arms. "It would get its nose cold tonight, I'm afraid. Can we make room for it?" Tommy's eyes opened wide. Why he was surprised he could not tell, but he looked at the lamb for a a long time. "It's surprising what luck that man The horses started. He chocked them with a word. It waB long beforo he rose and went to work with a shout. "Hallelujah! Get up Mose. Praiso the Lord! Amen!" And as he strode along his quavering voice rose: " I'll tell you when I fee! the best Glory Hallelujah! It's after I am blessed Praise ye the Lord!" Woman's Economic Independence. This is the latest slogan of reform: "The wholesale prostitution of woman hood by making it necessary for any woman to find some man to support her must be stopped.' Sounds well, doesn't it? But it isn't exactly a true statement of conditions. The aim of marriage is to reach a state in which the woman supplements and supports the man in her own way and according to the laws of her nature. No man can have anv- "It aint luck," Phineas answered. "As near as 1 can make out, it's down right stick-to-itivene6B. I never see harder working folks than that man and his two boys," "Vet he alius has time fer meetins an' sich." "lee, he puts me in mind of Crom well's soldiers: the harder they prayed, the better they fought." The neighbor paused on bis home ward way and looked over at the field where Brother Walton was spring-plowing. He was walking erect, with firm step, more like a sentry on duty than a farmer at the plow. The strength of his life in its prime bad been wasted in a southern priion.but he had never lost she bearing of a soldier. KRnEmfBzfi-KM LLUBIIIilllllllllV'-'? .JiKvHILLV2iLLLLLB Jndrcw (amejic. ,. . , thing much, if be be married, if his wife has," said a neighbor to Tommy's father does not help him get it. She may con one bright spring morning. "Your Un- tribute as much to the family resourcos cle Abram's farm don't ginerly turn out by her sympathies and her kindness us he does by his hustling. Economic in dependence for women is all right so far as it goes, but it doesn't go far. A man does not support a woman half as much as a good woman supports him. A woman's contribution to the family in thought, in solace, in the services in which she is expert, has a value and it is recognized. She is paid for her work in any well-arranged home. She has a fair share of every good thing that comes to the union. Wives are not slaves simply because they do not han dle all the money. They are relieved of the worry of handling it.and they Bpend the greater part of all a family epends. The average wife of any half-way de cent husband gets more, as things go nowadays, than she would get if she were placed by her husband on salary. The wife "on an allowance" has, usually, a hard time of it. The allowance tends to the minimum. The wife who goes , auoiu buu uiuaeu unia ana leaves tnem woo moi uy ner ausoana will get more things and meet with less grumbling than the woman on regular ealary. The economic independence of woman is a delusion. A man must be able to sup port a woman because, sb nature and observation show, the thoroughly well, atrong woman in marriage is a rarit '. Her earning capacity is smaller than a man's and a great part of the time it is 7i if if we mean by earning capacity, ability to do hard work. On the other hand, in another senee, an ill or invalid wife may be worth more to a man's suc cess than all the physical potentiality of an Amazon. Who shall measure affec tion and sympathy and even the value of a sweet woman's physical helpfulness as an inspiration to her husband, in mere dollars and cents? No woman is merely an appendage to a man in the married state. She has a value for we are not considering the valueless sort of folks. And figuring out all the expense of the home the woman has her full share, when she does not voluntarily divert it tn her children or when she does not deny herself to help her hus band into a position wherein be may give her a greater share of the value of their partnership. Women drudge, of course; so do men. Each drudges for both. Put wives on salaries and tho salaries nill be small. Moreover, sal aries will drive love out of their work which to be good, in the home must be loving work. The wife undoubtedly should have her own money, but ahe doesn't work for money. Marriage isn't wholly a business, as reformers think. Love is its greatest factor and the lov ing and beloved woman, in ninety nine cases out of one hundred, is not a de pendent. Her share of the money made in the partnership will average up fairly well with that of the man. The Mirror rfl t i i 1 :! ;! PI II ; Ml .4 M n m v tiU M i 1 U ?! ,r. i ' , H it n ! - H , t i ' 1 ty if: h