Green Room FB and Twitter Header

A House Not Made With Hands: (4) Damnable Barngoers

How the story began

 ...continued

 

 

 

That spring, on his weekly expeditions to market, William fell in with a lively crowd from Frisby-on-the-Wreake and they began discussing the Methodist travelling preachers who had recently visited the village.

"They're naught but rabble, those tub-thumpers," sneered one fellow. "They've no place in church and no place out of it."

"Nay, lad," replied the shepherd among them, "there are them as go to the meetings to make trouble and them as go to listen."

"Damnable barngoers, the vicar calls 'em," piped up the goatherd. "He's no time for 'em, that's for sure."

"Old Wragge's no time for anyone who can't invite him to table," grumbled the burly stockman, "unless you've an itch to be matched in a hurry without licence or banns. He does a fine trade in that!"

 



"Tis my belief," owned the shepherd boldly, "there's summat in what them gospellers say. Sam Letts is a changed man since he heard the Call. He don't rustle sheep and turkeys nowadays and he gives a tithe to the poor."

"That's more on account of his stint in jail," said the first speaker of the errant rat-catcher. "Swore blind to the judge he thought they was rats!"

"Look at Josh Bell, he's the same. Stopped beating his missus and never touches strong liquor."

"And we all know how filled with the spirit he was afore he heard the Good News!" quipped the stockman.

At this, the whole company roared with laughter and the sceptic condemned himself if he knew what the world was coming to when a man couldn't reach for the broomstale to keep his own house in order.

 



Just then, a pretty lass who had earlier caught William's attention fell into step beside him. She had twinkling eyes the colour of flax flowers and a blaze of copper-gold hair rippling from a filigree-trimmed cap which was one of three dozen she had made to hawk at market.

"I do know one thing," she offered shyly, "Mother's been able to make ends meet since she trusted the Lord. She don't need to lean on the Parish any more."

"And has she turned a Methodist?" William was intrigued.

"We all have," the girl told him. "Mother took us along to the Green, my three sisters and me - we didn't want to go, what with the stone-picking and thistle-cropping to do and the potatoes to plant for Mr Bowley - but we went and the preacher had us spellbound. Most particularly, I mind him sayin' that the Kingdom of Heaven was within every mortal person and that if we looked to that first, we'd not want for anything else again."

The young man's heart was strangely warmed by this artless testimony which his mother would eagerly have endorsed. Whilst he had the greatest respect for the Good Book and had tried to live by its precepts, was honest, hardworking and considerate of his fellows, he knew that he lacked the true spark of witness. His companion glowed with an inner assurance he did not possess.

 

  A House Not Made With Hands

Comments 1

 
Stephen Evans on Friday, 06 January 2023 20:10

Frisby-on-the-Wreake is a great name for a town. :)

Frisby-on-the-Wreake is a great name for a town. :)
Already Registered? Login Here
Guest
Friday, 08 December 2023

Captcha Image

Writing For Life

We are a small, friendly community who value writing as a tool for developing a brighter understanding of the world and humanity. We share our passions and experiences with one another and with a public readership. ‘Guest’ comments are welcome. No login is required. In Social Media we are happy to include interesting articles by other writers on any of the themes below. Enjoy!


Latest Blogs

Look Homeward, Angel by Thomas Wolfe – An exhausting biography that thinks it’s a lyrical novel. But somehow affecting in the end. To the Lighthouse b...
The leaves were dropping yesterday off one particular maple outside my porch like a blizzard of yellow-red. They fell for about twenty minutes then st...
  I am reading Virginia Woolf's diary (I don't think she'll mind) and found this, which was pretty much how I was feeling yesterday, except abou...
I recently saw an article online about the diminishing number of American college students choosing arts-related degrees. Liberal arts degrees have de...
There used to be a bookstore maybe twenty miles from me called Daedalus Books that sold publishers remainders or overstock at good prices. They always...

Latest Comments

Stephen Evans "I don’t like what I write now"
16 November 2023
Have not read Heyer - will put her on the must read list. Have read Thackeray (though only Vanity Fa...
Rosy Cole "I don’t like what I write now"
16 November 2023
Would agree, but you have to admire those unflagging rhythms which carry the reader. That kind of dr...
Stephen Evans Lyrical Book Reports: Recent Reading
13 November 2023
I''m not implying any such But I hope it is at least entertaining.
Stephen Evans "I don’t like what I write now"
13 November 2023
I don't think Emerson cared much for fiction in general, except perhaps his neighbor Hawthorne's. H...
gr8word Lyrical Book Reports: Recent Reading
13 November 2023
We're sure My Winter World will make up for the deficits of all the others mentioned! :-))))