“How did you like the sermon, Ned, and what kind of people were there?” I asked. “Tell me all about it.”
“The sermon was very good in its way,” said Ned, “and the people somewhat amusing; but you must get Frank to give you full details. I could not do the subject justice.”
I could do nothing else but ask Frank for the narration, though I was not particularly anxious to hear his voice.
“Well,” replied Frank, nothing loth to do the talking, “long before we got to the church we began to pass crowds of people who were walking thither; the men dressed in long sack coats of homespun, with immensely loose pants and dusty shoes, most of them carrying in their arms bare-legged, white-headed babies, who were employed in looking backwards over their fathers’ shoulders, and mostly gnawing very large fat biscuits; the women were arrayed in bright flowered calico robes, which they kicked up behind at every step. They all had stick tooth brushes in their mouths, and long-tailed fly bonnets, which they carried in their hands. Then we passed others who, a little better off, were riding in red painted wagons, drawn by rope-harnessed mules, which trotted along so briskly, under the kindly influences of overgrown boys and hickory sticks, that the folks in the body were jolted from side to side of their split bottomed chairs. Then we overtook the cumbrous carriages of the well-to-do farmers, with heavy-headed, clumsy-footed horses, the low boots full of fodder, and large trunks full of dinner, strapped on behind. As many of these and other vehicles as we passed, yet when we got to the church we found the grove full of horses, buggies, carriages and wagons, and so many people out doors that I began to fear the preacher would have no congregation.
“At the foot of every tree in sight was a group of men engaged in the solemn occupation of whittling twigs and spitting. When we got to the door of the church, which was a large barn-looking structure, we found it full, and with difficulty got seats near the door. Such a mixture of people I never saw before. Here a silk by the side of cotton check, a broadcloth coat touching a copperas striped one, and a silk hat resting in the window with one of wheat straw, bound with green ribbon. As I could see very little but the backs of the people’s heads, I cannot tell much about the congregation, except that the men for the most part had very long and very dry hair, which they wore bushy, while the women had theirs plaited in two strings and crossed like wicker-basket handles. The girls wore straw hats trimmed with ribbons, whose colors were of the rainbow that we may imagine would appear on a cloudy day. The elderly ladies wore bonnets that looked as if Noah’s wife had made them for pastime while she was in the ark, and had fitted them on the goat’s head for the want of a better block. The preacher himself was queer looking, and had a monotonous drawling tone.” (Here Frank got up in the floor to imitate his style.) “Ah! my brethren and sistern-er, where are we to-day? ‘Ere we are in the narrer road.”
“Tut, tut, Frank,” said mother, quickly, “that will never do. Jest about the people if you want to, but remember the sanctity of the pulpit.”
“But it does not matter, Mrs. Smith, if we have a little fun at their expense; they don’t belong to our church, and he wasn’t preaching to us.”
“It makes no difference,” said mother, rising to go down to the dining room; “he was preaching the Gospel of Christ, and, however defective his sermon, we should not ridicule it.”
“I’ll show some other time,” said Frank, as mother left the room. “But where was I? Oh, the preacher. Well, when the sermon was finished we all went out, and Mrs. Ben or Bem something soon found us, and insisted that we should eat with her.
“All over the grove the white cloths were being spread like gigantic snow flakes, and almost as numerous. Scores of negroes and ladies were unpacking great boxes, containing biscuit, rolls, cakes, ham, fowls, pickles, apples and peaches, and everybody was asking everybody else to dine with them. There was a good sized crowd at Mrs. Bemby’s table when we went up. They were not introduced, but they all made us room, and bowed confusedly. Mrs. Smith knew and spoke to several of them while we took our part out in staring.