“I’ve preached in the pulpits o’ our Connexion,” said Mr Shushions with solemn, quavering emotion, “for over fifty year, as you know. But I’d ne’er gi’ out another text if Primitives had ought to do wi’ such a flouting o’ th’ Almighty. Nay, I’d go down to my grave dumb afore God!”
He had already been upset by news of a movement that was on foot for deferring Anniversary Sermons from August to September, so that people should be more free to go away for a holiday, and collections be more fruitful. What! Put off God’s ordinance, to enable chapel-members to go ‘a-wakesing’! Monstrous! Yet September was tried, in spite of Mr Shushions, and when even September would not work satisfactorily, God’s ordinance was shifted boldly to May, in order to catch people, and their pockets well before the demoralisation incident to holidays.
Edwin thought that his father and the mysterious old man would talk for ever, and timorously he exposed himself to obtain possession of his satchel, hoping to escape unseen. But Mr Shushions saw him, and called him, and took his hand again.
“Eh, my boy,” he said, feebly shaking the hand, “I do pray as you’ll grow up to be worthy o’ your father. That’s all as I pray for.”
Edwin had never considered his father as an exemplar. He was a just and unmerciful judge of his father, against whom he had a thousand grievances. And in his heart he resentfully despised Mr Shushions, and decided again that he was a simpleton, and not a very tactful one. But then he saw a round yellow tear slowly form in the red rim of the old man’s eye and run crookedly down that wrinkled cheek. And his impatient scorn expired. The mere sight of him, Edwin, had brought the old man to weeping! And the tear was so genuine, so convincing, so majestic that it induced in Edwin a blank humility. He was astounded, mystified; but he was also humbled. He himself was never told, and he never learnt, the explanation of that epic tear.
Volume One--Chapter Four.
The Child-Man.
The origin of the tear on the aged cheek of Mr Shushions went back about forty years, and was embedded in the infancy of Darius Clayhanger.