This little book is affectionately dedicated to two dear “Friends,”
E. W. P. and M. M. T.
QUAKER IDYLS.
TWELFTH STREET MEETING.
Are the summer mornings longer in Philadelphia than elsewhere, or is it the admirable Quaker custom of breaking the fast at the usual hour on Sunday that gives such delightful leisure before the calm walk to meeting at half past ten?
Certain it is that the Sabbath of June 11 was no exception to the general rule, and when John and Martha Wilson, with their daughter Cassy, passed beyond the brick wall which separates the sanctuary from the street, there were groups of Friends kindly inquiring after the welfare of each other, and offering greeting to such as were unaccustomed to the place.
John passed to the right, where he extended his hand to a fellow-worshiper. Martha paused in the doorway to stroke the shining curls of a pretty child, whose gentle mother had failed in her efforts to subdue Dame Nature. And Cassy, sweet Cassy, who was no longer very young, felt the color rise, and modestly dropped her eyes, as she noticed the pleased observance of her entrance depicted on the face of George Evans, already occupying a seat on the “men’s side” of the meeting-house.
Several elderly Friends were in their place on the floor, and in the gallery were those who held the positions of elders and accepted ministers. Their hands were folded, and one or two of the men, who held walking sticks, rested their hands on the rounded tops. But the faces of all wore a far-away look, as if the present surroundings could never disturb the sweet serenity of their souls.