United States or Ecuador ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
She said she would like to go with us to hear "Father Ballou," as he was called by the Universalist people, and Clara, said: "Well, Mrs. , the day is coming when all shall see and rejoice at the knowledge they have long desired; this will be the real fruit that has been promised by the hope of the soul for years; and it is not new, it is an old, old truth, and for this reason there will be less preparation needed to accept it.
It's now or never, and she knows it and she's scared, same's the rest of us. On'y we got to set home and make the best of it. Or take what's left." She turned her head slowly to where Nap Ballou stood over a table at the far end of the room. She laughed a grim, unlovely little laugh. "I guess when you can't go after what you want, like Angie, why, you gotta take second choice."
My father and mother were moved, and when they saw my tears united their own. To our great surprise, after the service we learned that the professor was the guest of our cousin, Belinda Sprag, and at her house after dinner I had an opportunity to say to him: "Mr. Ballou, call me your child, for you have to-day baptized me. I am a Universalist, I know, for I love your doctrine."
Abner Kneeland's Serious Inquiry into the authenticity of the same. By HOSEA BALLOU, Pastor of the Second Universalist Society in Boston. To which is added, a Religious Correspondence, between the Rev. Hosea Ballou, and the Rev. Dr. Joseph Buckminster, and Rev. Joseph Walton, Pastors of Congregational Churches in Portsmouth, N. H." JOHN W. DAVIS, Clerk of the District of Massachusetts
I wrote a long letter to Louis, telling him of our going to hear Mr. Ballou preach, and of Matthias' coming among us, and I felt like making him my confessor, and wanted to tell him all about the frantic endeavor I had made for Clara's sake; but my letter was long enough when I felt this impulse, and I thought I could talk it all over with him when he came, and concluded to wait.
The house had a dirt floor and a clap-board roof. Light was let in by cutting away part of two logs in the end. A wide puncheon was fastened just below this for the writers, with a seat to correspond. During winter they pasted paper over these openings, and light for the rest of the school came down the chimney. The first teacher we had was an old man by the name of Ballou.
We bitterly execrated the Indians, the hunters and the books that had betrayed us with the silly device, and wondered dismally what was next to be done. At this critical moment Mr. Ballou fished out four matches from the rubbish of an overlooked pocket. To have found four gold bars would have seemed poor and cheap good luck compared to this.
All that day, at the bench, she was the reckless, insolent, audacious Tessie of six months ago. Nap Ballou was always standing over her, pretending to inspect some bit of work or other, his shoulder brushing hers. She laughed up at him so that her face was not more than two inches from his. He flushed, but she did not. She laughed a reckless little laugh.
No half-shy "Can I walk home with you?" from Nap Ballou. No. Instead: "Hello, sweetheart!" "Hello, yourself." "Somebody's looking mighty pretty this evening, all dolled up in pink." "Think so?" She tried to be pertly indifferent, but it was good to have someone following, someone walking home with you. What if he was old enough to be her father, with graying hair?
Lots of the movie heroes had graying hair at the sides. Twenty craves someone to tell it how wonderful it is. And Nap Ballou told her. They walked for an hour. Tessie left him at the corner. She had once heard her father designate Ballou as "that drunken skunk." When she entered the sitting room her cheeks held an unwonted pink. Her eyes were brighter than they had been in months.
Word Of The Day