“I’d like to be a washerwoman of that sort; but as I’m not one of the strong, I’ll be a laundress, and try to make purity as attractive as you do,” said Christie, soberly.
“Ah, my dear, it’s warm and wearin’ work I do assure you, and hard to give satisfaction, try as you may. Crowns of glory ain’t wore in this world, but it’s my ’pinion that them that does the hard jobs here will stand a good chance of havin’ extra bright ones when they git through.”
“I know you will,” said Christie, warmly.
“Land alive, child! I warn’t thinking of Cynthy Wilkins, but Mr. Power. I’ll be satisfied ef I can set low down somewheres and see him git the meddle. He won’t in this world, but I know there’s rewards savin’ up for him byme-by.”
“I’ll go to-morrow if it pours!” said Christie, with decision.
“Do, and I’ll lend you my bunnit,” cried Mrs. Wilkins, passing, with comical rapidity, from crowns of glory to her own cherished head-gear.
“Thank you, but I can’t wear blue, I look as yellow as a dandelion in it. Mrs. Flint let me have my best things though I offered to leave them, so I shall be respectable and by-and-by blossom out.”
On the morrow Christie went early, got a good seat, and for half an hour watched the gathering of the motley congregation that filled the great hall. Some came in timidly, as if doubtful of their welcome; some noisily, as if, as Mrs. Wilkins said, they had not learned the wide difference between liberty and license; many as if eager and curious; and a large number with the look of children gathering round a family table ready to be fed, and sure that wholesome food would be bountifully provided for them.
Christie was struck by the large proportion of young people in the place, of all classes, both sexes, and strongly contrasting faces. Delicate girls looking with the sweet wistfulness of maidenly hearts for something strong to lean upon and love; sad-eyed women turning to heaven for the consolations or the satisfactions earth could not give them; anxious mothers perplexed with many cares, trying to find light and strength; young men with ardent faces, restless, aspiring, and impetuous, longing to do and dare; tired-looking students, with perplexed wrinkles on their foreheads, evidently come to see if this man had discovered the great secrets they were delving after; and soul-sick people trying this new, and perhaps dangerous medicine, when others failed to cure. Many earnest, thoughtful men and women were there, some on the anxious seat, and some already at peace, having found the clew that leads safely through the labyrinth of life. Here and there a white head, a placid old face, or one of those fine countenances that tell, unconsciously, the beautiful story of a victorious soul.