Keziah Coffin

by Joseph Crosby Lincoln

wantto see what kind of clothes you wear and--"

  "Whew!" Ellery whistled. "You're unfolding a pleasant prospect for me, Imust say. Am I supposed to be catechized on all of my private affairs?"

  "Of course! A minister hasn't got any private affairs; he's a publiccharacter. There!" she laughed, as she poured the coffee, "I mustn'tdiscourage you. But don't you see that every mother's son--and, for thatmatter, every daughter and children's child unto the third and fourthgeneration--feel that, so long as they pay pew rent or put a cent in thecollection, they own a share in you. And we always keep a watch on ourinvestments down this way. That's the Yankee shrewdness you read so muchabout, I guess."

  The minister absently played with his spoon.

  "I'm afraid you're a cynic," he said.

  "No, no, I ain't. Though sometimes, considerin' everything, I feel asthough I had excuse enough if I wanted to belong to that tribe. Butyou're young. You mustn't mind my sayin' that; if you was old, ofcourse, I wouldn't talk about ages. But you are young and this is yourfirst church. So you must start right. I'm no cynic, bless you. I've gottrust in human nature left--most kinds of human nature. If I hadn't, I'dhave more money, I s'pose. Perhaps you've noticed that those who trust agood deal are usually poor. It's all right, Mr. Ellery; you go and takeyour walk. And I'll walk into that pantry closet. It'll be a good deallike walkin' into the Slough of Despond, but Christian came out on theother side and I guess likely I will, if the supply of soapsuds holdsout."

  When, promptly at ten o'clock, the minister returned from his walk,he found Mrs. Rogers waiting in the sitting room. It is a primequalification of an alert reporter to be first on the scene ofsensation. Didama was seldom beaten. Mr. Ellery's catechism began.Before it was over Keziah opened the door to admit Miss Pepper andher brother. "Kyan" was nervous and embarrassed in the housekeeper'spresence. Lavinia was a glacier, moving majestically and freezing as itmoved. Keziah, however, was not even touched by the frost; she greetedthe pair cordially, and begged them to "take off their things."

  It was dinner time before the catechizers departed. The catechized cameto the table with an impaired appetite. He looked troubled.

  "Don't let it worry you, Mr. Ellery," observed Keziah calmly. "I thinkI can satisfy you. Honest and true, I ain't half as bad as you mightthink."

  The minister looked more troubled than before; also surprised.

  "Why, Mrs. Coffin!" he cried. "Could you hear--"

  "No, no! I couldn't hear nothin' in that closet except my own opinionon dirt and dust. But if I was as deaf as the man that set on thepowder keg and dropped his pipe ashes into it, it wouldn't have made anydifference. The man said after they picked him up that they needn't havebeen so rough, he'd have moved without bein' pushed if they'd have madesigns they wanted to use the keg. And if I was out in the next lot I'dhave known what you was listenin' to in that sittin' room. They hintedthat they were real sorry for you, but 'twasn't any of THEIR doin's. Theparish committee, bein' just men, was apt to make mistakes in certainmatters. Of course everything MIGHT be well enough, and if you wa'n'tTOO particular about cookin' and so on, why--Anyhow, you mustn't thinkthat THEY were criticisin'. 'Twas only that they took an interestand--That was about it, wasn't it?"

  "Mrs. Coffin, I--I hope you don't think I paid any attention to theirremarks--of that kind, I mean. Honestly, I did my best to stop them. Isaid--"

  "Man alive! I'm not worried. Why should you be? We were talkin' abouttrust just now--or I was. Well, you and I'll have to take each other ontrust for a while, until we see whether we're goin' to suit. If you seeanything that I'm goin' wrong in, I wish you'd tell me. And I'll do thesame by you, if that's agreeable. You'll hear a lot of things said aboutme, but if they're very bad I give you my word they ain't true. And, tobe real frank, I'll probably hear some about you, which I'll take forwhat they're worth and considerin' who said 'em. That's a good wholesomeagreement, I think, for both of us. What do you think?"

  John Ellery said, with emphasis, that he thought well of it. He began torealize that this woman, with her blunt common sense, was likely to bea pilot worth having in the difficult waters which he must navigate asskipper of the Regular church in Trumet. Also, he began to realize that,as such a skipper, he was most inexperienced. And Captain Danielshad spoken highly--condescendingly but highly--of his housekeeper'squalifications and personality. So the agreement was ratified, withrelief on his part.

  The first Sunday came and with it the first sermon. He read that sermonto Keziah on Saturday evening and she approved of it as a whole, thoughshe criticised some of its details.

  "Don't be afraid to put in plenty of salt," she said. "Where you'vegot the Christian life and spirit written down as bein' like a quiet,peaceful home, free from all distrust, and like that, why don't youchange it to a good safe anchorage, where the soul can ride foreverwithout fear of breakers or no'theasters or the dangers besettin' themariner on a lee shore. They'll understand that; it gets right home to'em. There's scarcely a man or a woman in your congregation that ain'tbeen out of sight of land for weeks on a stretch."

  The breakfast hour on Sunday would be at nine o'clock, instead of seven,as on week days, she told him.

  "Trumet lays to bed Sunday mornin's," she explained. "It's almost a partof its religion, as you might say, and lived up to more conscientiousthan some other parts, I'm afraid. Six days shalt thou labor and wearcomfort'ble clothes; and on the seventh you must be lazy and dress up.Likewise you must have baked beans Saturday for supper, as we're havin''em, and more beans with fish balls next mornin'. That is, if you wantto be orthodox."

  The service began at eleven o'clock. At half past ten the sexton,old Mr. Jubal Knowles, rang the "first bell," a clanging five-minutereminder. Twenty minutes later he began on the second and final call.Mr. Ellery was ready--and nervous--before the first bell had finishedringing. But Keziah, entering the sitting room dressed in black alpacaand carrying the hymn book with her name in gilt letters on the cover,forbade his leaving the parsonage thus early.

  "I shall go pretty soon," she said, "but you mustn't. The minister ain'texpected until the last bell's 'most done. Parson Langley used to waituntil the Winslows went in. Gaius Winslow is a widower man who lives upto the west end of the town and he's got nine children, all boys. You'llknow 'em because they always drive down to meetin' in one carryall witha white horse. Gaius is as punctual as a boardin'-house dinner. Theold parson used to wait until the last Winslow had toddled up themeetin'-house steps and then he'd come out of this side door withhis sermon in his hand. It's a pretty good rule to remember and saveswatchin' the clock. Besides, it's what we've been used to, and that goesa good ways with some folks. Good-by, Mr. Ellery. You'll see me in thethird pew from the back, on the right side, wishin' you luck just ashard as I can."

  So, as in couples or family groups, afoot or in all sorts of vehicles,the members of Trumet's Regular society came to the church to hear theirnew minister, that functionary peeped under the parlor window shade ofthe parsonage and waited, fidgetting and apprehensive, for theWinslows. They arrived at last, and were not hard to recognize, for tenindividuals packed into one carriage are hard to overlook anywhere. AsGaius, with the youngest in his arms, passed in at the church door, JohnEllery passed out of the parsonage gate. The last bell clanged its finalstroke, the vibrations ceased, the rustle of skirts and the sounds ofdecorous coughing subsided and were succeeded by the dry rattle of thehymn-book pages, the organ, presented by Captain Elkanah and played byhis daughter, uttered its preliminary groan, the service began.

  Outside the spring breeze stirred the budding silver-leafs, the distantbreakers grumbled, the crows in the pines near Captain Eben Hammond'stavern cawed ribald answers to the screaming gulls perched along the topof the breakwater. And seated on one of the hard benches of the littleCome-Outer chapel, Grace Van Horne heard her "Uncle Eben," who, asusual, was conducting the meeting, speak of "them who, in purple andfine linen, with organs and trumpets and vain shows, are gatheredelsewhere in this community to
hear a hired priest make a mock of thegospel." (A-MEN!)

  But John Ellery, the "hired priest," knew nothing of this. He did know,however, that he was the center of interest for his own congregation,the people among whom he had been called to labor. Their praise orcriticism meant everything to him;