One of the pleasures of an evening with Patience is the uncertainty of the form of the entertainment. Never are two evenings alike in the general nature of the communications. She adapts herself to circumstances and to the company present, serious if they are bent on serious subjects, merry if they are so; but seldom will the serious escape without a little of the merry, or the merry without a little of the serious. Sometimes her own feelings seem to have an influence. Always, however, she is permitted to take her own course, except in the case of a formal examination, to which she readily responds if conducted with respect. She may devote the evening largely to poetry, possibly varying the themes, as on one evening when she gave a nature poem, one of a religious character, a lullaby, a humorous verse and a prayer, interspersed with discussion. She may talk didactically with little or no interruption. She may submit to a catechism upon religion, philosophy, philology, or any subject that may arise. She may devote an evening to a series of little personal talks to a succession of sitters, or she may elect just to gossip. “I be dame,” she says, and therefore not averse to gossip. But rarely will she neglect to write something on whatever story she may have in hand. She speaks of such writing as “weaving.” “Put ye to weave,” she will say, and that means that conversation is to stop for a time until a little real work is accomplished.
The conversations which follow are selected to illustrate the variety of form referred to, as well as to introduce a number of interesting statements that throw light on the character of the phenomena.
Upon a certain evening the Currans had two visitors, Dr. and Mrs. W. With Dr. W. and Mrs. C. at the board and Mrs. W. leaning over it, Patience began:
“Ah, hark! Here abe athree; yea, love, faith and more o’ love! Thee hast for to hark unto word I do put o’ them, not ye.”
And then she told this tale of the Mite and the Seeds:
“Hark! Aneath the earth fell a seed, and lay aside a Mite, a winged mite, who hid from cold. Yea, and the Mite knew o’ the day o’er the Earth’s crust, and spake unto the Seed, and said:
“‘The hours o’ day show sun and cloud, aye, and the Earth’s crust holdeth grass and tree. Aye, and men walk ’pon the Earth.’
“Aye, and the Seed did say unto the Mite:
“‘Nay, there be a naught save Earth and dark, for mine eye hath not beheld what thou tellest of.’
“Yea, and the Mite spake it so: