A KNIGHT OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY by Edward Payson Roe (red seas under red skies .TXT) 📕

Here In hillaton, Where Every One Is Ready To Tread Him Down, Shows

Pluck, Whatever Else Is Wanting. I'Ve Had My Eye On Him For Some Time,

And I'M About Satisfied he'S Trying To Do Right. But It Is Difficult To

Know What To Do For One With His Ugly Reputation. I Will See What Can Be

Done, However."

That Same Evening Chilly Autumn Winds Were Blowing Without, And Mr.

Growther'S Passion For A Wood Fire Upon The Hearth Was An Indulgence To

Which Haldane No Longer Objected. The Frugal Supper Was Over, And The

Two Oddly Diverse Occupants Of The Quaint Old Kitchen Glowered at The

Red coals In silence, Each Busy With His Own Thoughts. At Last Haldane

Gave A Long Deep Sigh, Which Drew To Him At Once Mr. Growther'S Small

Twinkling Eyes.

"Tough Old World, Isn'T It, For Sinners Like Us?" He Remarked.

"Well, Mr. Growther, I'Ve Got Rather Tired of Inveighing against The

World; I'M Coming To Think That The Trouble Is Largely With Myself."

"Umph!" Snarled the Old Man, "I'Ve Allers Knowed the Trouble Was With

Me, For Of All Crabbed, Cranky, Cantankerous, Old--"

"Hold On," Cried haldane, Laughing, "Don'T You Remember What Mrs. Arnot

Said About Being Unjust To One'S Self? The Only Person That I Have Ever

Known You To Wrong Is Jeremiah Growther, And It Seems To Me That You Do

Treat Him Outrageously Sometimes."

At The Name Of Mrs. Arnot The Old Man'S Face Softened, And He Rubbed his

Hands Together As He Chuckled, "How Satan Must Hate That Woman!"

"I Was In hopes That Her Words Might Lead You To Be A Little Juster To

Yourself," Continued haldane, "And It Has Seemed to Me That You, As Well

As I, Have Been In a Better Mood Of Late."

"I Don'T Take No Stock In myself At All," Said Mr. Growther

Emphatically. "I'M A Crooked stick And Allers Will Be--A Reg'Lar Old

Gnarled knotty Stick, With Not 'Nuff Good Timber In it To Make A Penny

Whistle. That I Haven'T Been In as Cussin' A State As Usual Isn'T

Because I Think Any Better Of Myself, But Your Mrs. Arnot Has Set Me

A-Thinkin' On A New Track. She Come To See Me One Day While You Was At

The Mill, And We Had A Real Speret'Al Tussel. I Argufied my Case In such

A Way That She Couldn'T Git Round It, And I Proved to Her That I Was The

Driest And Crookedest Old Stick That Ever The Devil Twisted out O' Shape

When It Was A-Growin'. On A Suddent She Turned the Argerment Agin Me In

A Way That Has Stumped me Ever Since. 'You Are Right, Mr. Growther,' She

Said, 'It Was The Devil And Not The Lord That Twisted you Out Of Shape.

Now Who'S The Stronger,' She Says, 'And Who'S Goin' To Have His Own Way

In The End? Suppose You Are Very Crooked, Won'T The Lord Get All The

More Glory In making You Straight, And Won'T His Victory Be All The

Greater Over The Evil One?' Says I, 'Mrs. Arnot, That'S Puttin' My Case

In A New Light. If I Should Be Straightened out, It Would Be The

Awfulest Set-Back Old Nick Ever Had; And If Such A Thing Should Happen

He'D Never Feel Sure Of Any One After That.' Then She Turned on Me

Kinder Sharp, And Says She, 'What Right Have You To Say That God Is

Allers Lookin' Round For Easy Work? What Would You Think Of A Doctor Who

Would Take Only Slight Cases, And Have Nothing To Do With People Who

Were Gittin' Dangerous-Like? Isn'T Jesus Christ The Great Physician, And

Don'T Your Common-Sense Tell You That He Is Jist As Able To Cure You As

A Little Child?'

"I Declare I Was Stumped. Like That Ill-Mannered cuss In the Scripter

Who Thought His Old Clothes Good Enough For The Weddin', I Was

Speechless.

"But I Got A Worse Knock Down Than That. Says She, 'Mr. Growther, I Will

Not Dispute All The Hard Things You Have Said Of Yourself (You See I Had

Beat Her On That Line Of Argerment); I Won'T Dispute All That You Say

(And I Felt A Little Sot Up Agin, For I Didn'T Know What She Was

A-Drivin' At), But,' Says She, 'I Think You'Ve Got Some Natural

Feelin'S. Suppose You Had A Little Son, And While He Was Out In the

Street A Wicked man Should Carry Him Off And Treat Him So Cruelly That,

Instead Of Growin' To Be Strong And Fine-Lookin', He Should Become A

Puny, Deformed little Critter. Suppose At Last You Should Hear Where He

Was, And That He Was Longin' To Escape From The Cruel Bands Of His Harsh

Master, Who Kept On A-Treatin' Of Him Worse And Worse, Would You, His

Father, Go And Coolly Look At Him And Say, "If You Was Only A Handsome

Boy, With A Strong Mind In a Strong Body, I'D Deliver You Out Of This

Tyrant'S Clutches And Take You Back To Be My Son Again; But Since You

Are A Poor, Weak, Deformed little Critter, That Can Never Do Much, Or Be

Much, I'Ll Leave You Here To Be Abused and Tormented as Before"--Is

That What You Would Do, Mr. Growther?'

"Well, She Spoke It All So Earnest And Real-Like That I Got Off My

Guard, And I Jist Riz Right Up From My Cheer, And I Got Hold Of My Heavy

Old Cane There, And It Seemed as If My Hair Stood Right Up On End, I Was

That Mad At The Old Curmudgeon That Had My Boy, And I Half Shouts, 'No!

That Ain'T What I'D Do, I'D Go For That Cuss That Stole My Boy, And For

Every Blow He'D Given The Little Chap, I'D Give Him A Hundred.'

"'But What Would You Do With The Poor Little Boy?' She Asks. At That I

Began To Choke, My Feelin'S Was So Stirred up, And Moppin' My Eyes, I

Said, 'Poor Little Chap, All Beaten And Abused out O' Shape! What Would

I Do With Him? Why, I Couldn'T Do 'Nuff For Him In tryn' To Make Him

Forget All The Hard Times He'D Had.' Then Says She, 'You Would Twit The

Child With Bein' Weak, Puny, And Deformed, Would You?' I Was Now

Hobblin' Up And Down The Room In a Great State Of Excitement, And Says

I, 'Mrs. Arnot, Mean A Man As I Am, I Wouldn'T Treat Any Human Critter

So, Let Alone My Own Flesh And Blood, That Had Been So Abused that It

Makes My Heart Ache To Think On'T.'

"'Don'T You Think You Would Love The Boy A Little Even Though He Had A

Hump On His Back And His Features Were Thin And Sharp And Pale?' 'Mrs.

Arnot,' Says I, Moppin' My Eyes Agin, 'If You Say Another Word About The

Little Chap I Shall Be Struck All Of A Heap, Fur My Heart Jist Kinder--

Kinder Pains Like A Toothache To Do Somethin' For Him.' Then All Of A

Suddent She Turns On Me Sharp Agin, And Says She, 'I Think You Are A

Very Inconsistent Man, Mr. Growther. You Have Been Runnin' Yourself

Down, And Yet You Claim To Be Better Than Your Maker. He Calls Himself

Our Heavenly Father, And Yet You Are Sure That You Have A Kinder And

More Fatherly Heart Than He. You Are One Of His Little, Weak, Deformed

Children, Twisted all Out Of Shape, As You Have Described, By His Enemy

And Yours, And Yet You The Same As Say That You Would Act A Great Deal

More Like A True Father Toward Your Child Than He Will Toward His. You

Virtually Say That You Would Rescue Your Child And Be Pitiful And Tender

Toward Him, But That Your Heavenly Father Will Leave You In the Clutches

Of The Cruel Enemy, Or Exact Conditions That You Cannot Comply With

Before Doing anything For You. Haven'T You Read In the Bible That "Like

As A Father Pitieth His Children, So The Lord Pitieth Them That Fear

Him"? You Think Very Meanly Of Yourself, But You Appear To Think More

Meanly Of God. Where Is Your Warrant For Doing So?'

"The Truth Bust In on Me Like The Sunlight Into This Old Kitchen When We

Open The Shutters Of A Summer Mornin'. I Saw That I Was So Completely

Floored in the Argerment, And Had Made Such A Blasted old Fool Of Myself

All These Years, That I Just Looked around For A Knot-Hole To Crawl

Into. I Didn'T Know Which Way To Look, But At Last I Looked at Her, And

My Withered old Heart Gave A Great Thump When I Saw Two Tears A-Standin'

In Her Eyes. Then She Jumps Up And Gives Me That Warm Hand O' Her'N And

Says: 'Mr. Growther, Whenever You Wish To Know How God Feels Toward You,

Think How You Felt Toward That Little Chap That Was Abused and Beaten

All Out O' Shape,' And She Was Gone. Well, The Upshot Of It All Is That

I Don'T Think A Bit Better Of Myself--Not One Bit--But That Weakly

Little Chap, With A Peaked face And A Hump On His Back, That Mrs. Arnot

Made So Real-Like That I See Him A-Lookin' At Me Out Of The Cheer There

Half The Time--He'S A Makin' Me Better Acquainted with The Lord, For The

Lord Knows I'Ve Got A Hump On My Back And Humps All Over; But I Keep

A-Sayin' To Myself, 'Like As A Father Pitieth His Children,' And I Don'T

Feel Near As Much Like Cussin' As I Used to. That Little Chap That Mrs.

Arnot Described is Doin' Me A Sight O' Good, And If I Could Find Some

Poor Little Critter Just Like Him, With No One To Look After Him, I'D

Take Him In and Do For Him In a Minit."

"Mr. Growther," Said Haldane, Huskily, "You Have Found That Poor

Misshapen, Dwarfed creature That I Fear Will Never Attain The

Proportions Of A True Man. Of Course You See Through Mrs. Arnot'S

Imagery. In befriending Me You Are Caring For One Who Is Weak And Puny

Indeed."

"Oh, You Won'T Answer," Said Mr. Growther With A Laugh. "I Can See That

Your Humps Is Growin' Wisibly Less Every Day, And You'Re Too Big And

Broad-Shouldered for Me To Be A Pettin' And A Yearnin' Over. I Want Jest

Such A Peaked little Chap As Mrs. Arnot Pictured out, And That'S Doin'

Me Such A Sight O' Good."

Again The Two Occupants Of The Old Kitchen Gazed at The Fire For A Long

Time In silence, And Again There Came From The Young Man The Same

Long-Drawn Sigh That Had Attracted mr. Growther'S Attention Before.

"That'S The Second Time," He Remarked.

"I Was Thinking," Said Haldane, Rising To Retire, "Whether I Shall Ever

Have Better Work Than This Odious Routine At The Mill."

Mr. Growther Pondered over The Question A Few Minutes, And Then Said

Sententiously: "I'M Inclined to Think The Lord Gives Us As Good Work As

We'Re Cap'Ble Of Doin'. He'Ll Promote You When You'Ve Growed a Little

More."

The Next Morning Haldane Received a Message Directing Him To Report At

Mr. Ivison'S Private Office During The Noon Recess.

"Be Seated," Said That Gentleman As The Young Man, Wearing an Anxious

And Somewhat Surprised expression, Entered hesitatingly And Diffidently.

"You Need not Look So Troubled, I Have Not Sent For You To Find

Fault--Quite The Reverse. You Have 'A Friend At Court,' As The Saying

Goes. Not That You Needed one Particularly, For I Have Had My Eye Upon

You Myself, And For Some Days Past Have Been Inclined to Give You A

Lift. But Last Evening Mrs. Arnot Spoke In your Behalf, And Through Her

Words I Have Been Led to Take The Following Step. For Reasons That

Perhaps You Can Understand, It Would Be Difficult For Me To Give You A

Desk Among My Other Clerks. I Am Not So Sensitive, Now That I Know Your

Better Aims, And It