"We think we've done pretty well by this church," said Deacon
Strong, who was the business head, the political boss, and the
moral mentor of the small town's affairs. "Just you worry along
with the preachin', young man, and we'll attend to the buyin' and
buildin' operations."
Douglas's mind was too active to content itself wholly with the
writing of sermons and the routine of formal, pastoral calls. He
was a keen humanitarian, so little by little, he came to be
interested in the heart stories and disappointments of many of
the village unfortunates, some of whom were outside his
congregation. The mentally sick, the despondent, who needed
words of hope and courage more than dry talks on theology, found
in him an ever ready friend and adviser, and these came to love
and depend on him. But he was never popular with the creed-
bound element of the church.
Mandy had her wish about being on the spot the first time that
the parson's jaw squared itself at Deacon Strong. The deacon had
called at the parsonage to demand that Douglas put a stop to the
boys playing baseball in the adjoining lot on Sunday. Douglas
had been unable to see the deacon's point of view. He declared
that baseball was a healthy and harmless form of exercise, that
the air was meant to be breathed, and that the boys who enjoyed
the game on Sunday were principally those who were kept indoors
by work on other days.
Pages:
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80