Part 6 (1/2)
”I wish to learn what is wrong with the parish of Rixton,” was the reply. ”I want to get down to bedrock, so to speak, and find out just what is the trouble.”
”But how will your going as a farm-hand help you?”
”I shall have a better chance to see things in their true light. If I go as a clergyman, people will naturally be somewhat suspicious of me, and will say things behind my back which they will not say to my face.
But John Handyman will be of little account in their estimation, and they will express their views in his presence freely and openly.”
”Does it not seem like taking a mean advantage of them?” Garton queried.
”I can't see it that way. I wish to diagnose that parish and find out what is the trouble. There is a serious disease of some kind there, and unless I know what it is before taking charge I may make all kinds of mistakes, and thus render the work much more difficult. If, in this way, I can accomplish my object and do good to the people of Rixton, I cannot see how I shall be taking a mean advantage of them. If the fault has been with the clergymen who have been there, I want to know it; but if the people are to blame, I want to know that as well.”
”I see you believe in understanding the people among whom you work,”
Garton remarked.
”Certainly. It seems to me that too many of our clergy do not understand their paris.h.i.+oners, especially so in country districts. It was not always so, but changes have taken place in recent years. How well I remember my old rector, the one whose life I so revere, and princ.i.p.ally through whose influence my mind was first turned toward the Ministry. He was a saint, if ever there was one, and he looked well after his flock. He knew his people intimately, not merely officially, but in a sympathetic and loving way. He knew them all by name, even to the smallest child. Their concerns were his, and he entered into their joys and sorrows as one of them, and not as a mere outsider. Why, it was wonderful how much he knew about farming, stock-raising, and such like. He could talk as intelligently to the men about their farms as he could to the women about their children. He was one of them; he loved them and they knew it.”
Douglas' eyes shone as he thus bore testimony to the worth of his old rector, and when he suddenly ceased he sat gazing straight before him as if he beheld a vision.
”Is he living yet?” Garton asked.
”No, he died years ago, when I was about seventeen.”
”He must have been a remarkable man.”
”He certainly was, and his was the model parish in the whole diocese.”
”Is it the same now?”
An angry light suddenly leaped into Douglas' eyes, as he turned them upon his companion's face.
”No, it is not the same,” he slowly replied. ”The parish has gone to pieces, and the changes which have taken place there make my heart ache.”
”Why, what has been the cause?” Garton enquired.
”It is due to the men who were sent there after the death of my old rector. The first man who went had no patience with the people in their loyalty to his predecessor, and he could not bear to hear them tell of the work which had been done in the past. He became jealous, said sharp things, and turned the people against him. The next man took no interest in the things which concern an agricultural people.
He openly said that he hated farming, and that he was only staying in the parish until he could get a better one. He moved on after he had driven a number of members from the Church. The third was not satisfied with the services, so he introduced many things which were distasteful to the people, especially the older members. He is there yet, but there is a sad division in the parish, and he has only a very small following. Those three men could not understand the people among whom they worked. I do not want to make the same mistake at Rixton, and so I am going to spy out the land.”
”Oh, you'll make out all right,” Garton replied, as he laid the b.u.t.t of his cigar carefully on the ash-tray. ”You'll have no trouble. Get on the good side of Stubbles, and he'll see you through. You can't afford to lose the support of such a man as that, who has so great an influence in Rixton. Anyway, if you need help, bank on me. I am always at your service. I'll bring my whole battalion to your a.s.sistance. Just send for Col. Garton of the 65th, and he'll be there with his men in no time. But, say, there's Kit at the piano; let's go and have one more good sing together, and forget all about disagreeable Church matters for the present.”
CHAPTER V
PUT TO THE TEST
There was a special reason why Douglas Stanton walked slowly along the road leading from the railway station through the parish of Rixton. It was a warm, beautiful evening, and the magnificent scenery so appealed to him that he had not the heart to hurry. How good it was to be away from the noise and dust of the city! Here he could breathe the pure, fresh air, listen to the music of the birds, and rest his eyes upon meadows, flowers and trees. He felt at home, and the spirit of childhood days possessed him. He longed to wade in every brook he saw, and roll in the gra.s.s by the side of the road.
He had walked about five miles and was somewhat tired, as he was carrying a large bag over his shoulder, and his precious violin case under his arm. He was no longer dressed in his clerical garb, but was plain John Handyman in rough work-a-day clothes. He enquired the way from several people he met, and these had looked with curiosity upon the bag and box he was carrying.
”Huntin' for work, eh?” the last man he had accosted asked. ”Well, Jake Jukes wants a man in the worst way. Heard him say so last night.
He lives about half a mile further on. Ye can't mistake the place, for it's just across the road from the rectory.”