CHAPTER X.
A DREAM.
No. 1.
I went to the regular meeting of a W.C.T.U., called for 3 P.M. I entered as the clock struck. The room was full of chairs and benches, a large room with few windows and dark corners. There were three hymn books on the table, and a dusty Bible. The clock ticked on, five minutes passed, ten minutes, and one timid woman entered, took no notice of me, but sat with her eyes fixed on the floor, a sad faced woman I saw as I looked more closely, a tired, hopeless expression in the droop of her figure. Five minutes more and two busy women came in with a rush. "What! nobody here? I wish people would be punctual," said one, "I can only stay half an hour," "I have another meeting," said the other. The sad faced woman and I were invisible, it seemed, as neither by look nor act did they acknowledge our presence. Then three more strolled in leisurely, one saying, "Oh, Mrs. A., is this meeting at three or half past? I really forget the hour." Afterwards a few young ladies came in, and seated themselves in a row, keeping up a whispered conversation in which the pronouns he, she, and I, were often heard. At half-past three the President came in, saying, "I am afraid I am a little late, my watch does not seem to be quite right." Taking a hymn book, she asked, "What had we better sing, Mrs. B., have you any choice?" No choice being signified, the leaves were turned over and over, and "Plunged in a gulf of dark despair" selected and read. "Will some one start the tune? Mrs. C. will you?" Mrs. C. looked around, waited a minute, and then asked, "Is it common or long meter?" Another pause. The little timid woman began a familiar tune, and had the privilege of singing the first two lines alone. The hymn finished, the President said, "As it is so late, we will dispense with the reading of the Scriptures. I will ask Mrs. A. to lead in prayer," at which Mrs. A. shook her head. "Mrs. C. then will you?" "Excuse me," said Mrs. C., so to the back of her chair the president prayed in a very subdued tone, and I knew just when she was through by the little rustle and moving of the chair as she arose. The secretary now read the minutes, after which the president said, "Those in favor of the minutes will signify it." Two or three hands went up. The treasurer's report was then presented, but no action taken on it. Although this was a large town there seemed to be no committees at work, but each member had been furnished with a pledge book, in which to obtain signatures. No one had any success to report, had quite forgotten it, except the little woman mentioned. She produced her book where the names of half-a-dozen were scrawled with a good thick pen and plenty of ink. Her report was received in silence. The president, secretary, and treasurer talked across the table in very low tones, the rest of the company whispered a little, finally Mrs. —— said, looking at her watch, "My half-hour is more than up, I must go." She walked out, followed by the young ladies. The low tones at the table ceased, the books were closed, the ladies put on their extra wrappings and went home. The little woman and I were left alone. "Will you let me see your book?" I asked. "Oh yes," said she. "I got some of the young men boarding with me to sign, and I hope they'll keep it. I pray they may. I thought the sisters would be glad. I wish I could do more, but it does not seem worth while for me to come to the meetings. I cannot talk much, and I have so much to do at home. I can work quietly there and among my acquaintances." As I passed the young ladies on the way home, I overheard one say, "I am not going to the Union meetings any more. Two or three do all the talking, and we can't hear what they say." That evening, as I heard in my dream, the president said to her husband, "I think once in two months is often enough to hold our Union meetings. There seems to be nothing to do." Then I thought, in my dream, that another year had passed, and I came again to the same town, and wended my way to the place of meeting where I had been aforetime. Meeting a gentleman near the door I asked him if the Union still met there. "Oh," said he, "the W.C.T.U. That died out months ago. Women don't know very much about business, you see, it is hard for them to keep together."
Was it all a dream?
A DREAM.
No. 2.
A bright spring day I thought it was and I walked to the room of the Y.M.C.A., where a Union meeting was to be held. It was not quite three o'clock, but I met three or four ladies going in, who asked me if I was coming to the meeting, and upon my answering "Yes, if I may," she said, "Oh, certainly, come right in." One of them placed a seat for me as I went in, and brought me a hymn book, asking if I was a stranger in town and if I was a member of any Union. As I said I was a member of —— Union, she said, "Oh! then, you must tell us of the work there." Then moving away, and coming back with a lady, she introduced her as the president of the Union, and the president expressed her pleasure at meeting another sister interested in the work. Looking around the room, I saw a bouquet of flowers on the table, writing materials and reports. Just then the clock struck three, the president took her chair, gave out the hymn, "Work for the Night is Coming,' read the 146th Psalm, and engaged in prayer. The secretary then read the minutes. As the president asked, "Is there any objection to the minutes?" one lady said that the first resolution at last meeting was moved by Mrs. B., instead of Mrs. A. This was corrected and the minutes approved, no other objection being offered. The treasurer's reports and reports of different committees were read and adopted. The pledge books produced, and many signatures had been obtained. The president said, "Let us sing the doxology over this," and it was sung very heartily. I noticed that all the members spoke to "Mrs. President," not to each other, and there was no whispering. The officers at the table spoke so that all could hear. A short paper was then read on "How we may best help in Scott Act work." At the invitation of the writer this paper was discussed, some points objected to, additional methods proposed, and every body was interested and had learned something. The chairman of the Literature Committee said she would exchange books in the loan library at the close of the meeting. Miss S. was asked to prepare a paper for the next monthly meeting, and after a few words of earnest prayer offered by a young lady at the request of the president, the meeting adjourned. The president walked quickly to the door and shook hands heartily with each member as she passed out, asking kindly after sick ones and erring ones of the families. "You must come and see me to- morrow morning, and tell me all about it," I heard her say to a troubled sister. It was now ten minutes past four o'clock. As I walked along I overtook the troubled one, and said to her, "You had a good meeting to-day." Her face brightened as she replied, "Oh, we always have. I would not like to miss one of our meetings. It always helps me to go there and hear of the good work being done, and it makes me stronger to do my share of it. These meetings make you feel as if somebody cared for you." A group of young ladies were chatting with some gentlemen at the opposite corner, and I heard a clear, sweet voice say "We want you both as honorary members of our W.C.T.U. We are going to have some readings from Dickens and we need your help; you will join, won't you?" To which the gentlemen replied they "would be delighted," etc. Then my dream took me to a cozy home where a young man, just out of his teens, was saying to a lady I had seen before, "Mother, now the warm weather is coming, and you are not very strong, you had better give up your meetings." "Oh, no, my son," the lady said, "there is so much to be done, and it is such a pleasure to work with our ladies, we must keep right on." In my dream I came again. This time the Union met in a beautiful room of their own, furnished as a bright, pleasant parlor, with flowers and pictures and piano. Their numbers had increased, for the ladies came in groups till the room was nearly filled. I saw some of the old faces, the president was the same, a little older in appearance, her walk a little slower. As she took her place, the sun shone out full in my face and I awoke.
Was this, too, only a dream?