“Asahel is a true-hearted boy,” said Caleb. “Since our own son has taken to evil ways, who will we have to depend upon in our old age but Asahel, unless Mandy should marry?”
“O Kalub, think what a wife I’ve been to you and listen to me. Mandy is going to marry. I am going to invite Myron Smith here on Thanksgiving, and to hang up the courtin’ stick over the dresser, so that he will see it plain. That stick is goin’ to jine the two farms. It is a yard-stick—there, now, there! I always was great on calculation; Abraham was, and so was Jacob; it’s scriptural. You would have never proposed to me if I hadn’t encouraged you, and only think what a wife I’ve been to you! Just like two wives.”
“But Asahel Bow is a thrifty boy. He is sensible and savin’, and he is feelin’.”
“Kalub, Kalub Short, now that will do. Who was his father? Who but old Seth Bow? Everybody knows what he was, and blood will tell. Just think of what that man did!”
“What, Asenath?”
“Why, you know that he undertook to preach, and he thought that if he opened his mouth the Lord would fill it. And he opened his mouth, and stood with it open for nearly ten minutes, and he couldn’t speak a word. He was a laughing-stock, and he never went to meetin’ much after that, only to evenin’ meetin’s in the schoolhouse—candle-light meetin’s.”
“Yes, Asenath, that is all true. But Seth Bow was an honest man. Just hear how he used to talk to me. He used to say to me—I often think of it—he used to say: ‘Caleb Short, I’ve lost my standin’ among the people, but I haven’t lost my faith in God, and there is a law that makes up for things. I couldn’t preach, but Asahel is goin’ to preach. He’s inherited the germ of intention from me, and one day that will be something to be thankful for, come Thanksgiving days. I will preach through Asahel yet. I tell you, Caleb, there is a law that makes up for things. No good intention was ever lost. One must do right, and then believe that all that happens to him is for his good. That is the way the Book of Job reads, and I have faith, faith, faith! You may all laugh at me, but Asahel will one day be glad that his old father wanted to preach, and tried, even if he did fail. The right intention of the father is fulfilled in the son, and I tell you there’s a law that makes up for things, and so I can sing Thanksgiving Psalms with the rest of um, if I don’t dare to open my mouth in doin’ it.’ Asenath, I look upon Asahel as a boy that is blessed in the intention of his father. The right intentions of a boy live in the man, and the gov’nin’ purpose of the man lives in his boys or those whom he influences, and I tell you, Asenath, there’s nothing better to be considered on Thanksgiving days than the good intentions of the folks of the past that live in us. There are no harvests in the world ekul to those. You wait and see.”
At this point of the story, the clergyman said:
“That is good old Connecticut doctrine, Brother Jonathan.”
The story-teller continued: