The colt proceeded reluctantly until it reached the middle of the slough. There it became possessed with the spirit of Balam’s beast and refused to go farther. Its purpose seemed to be fixed as all the entreaties of the rider were unavailing. The church was in plain view, and, like the wedding guest of Coleridge’s immortal “Rime,” the preacher could see and hear the people as they were assembling, while he was transfixed to the spot. Finally giving up hope of going forward, he tried to turn the colt’s head in the opposite direction, when, lo, he found that it was as averse to turning back as it was to going forward. Just what the beast’s plan for the future was, could not well be divined, for, to be in the middle of a lake with no purpose of going either forward or backward was, to say the least, a position difficult to explain or defend. The final bell rang for the morning service, and the preacher began to realize that his reputation for punctuality was in danger of being water-soaked. A final desperate effort was made to induce locomotion, but to no avail.
It was a real Slough of Despond. The reverend’s heart sank to the bottom of his new boots when he found that his only chance was to dismount. This he proceeded to do, supposing that he could at least lead the beast out of the water. The water was by no means comfortable, the mud filled his boots, and apprehensive thoughts concerning the unpresentable appearance he would make at church, and the damage being done to his new suit, and at the same time the humiliation of being beaten out by a perverse colt, all together did not tend to a devotional frame of mind.
An Unintentional Immersion.
Taking the rein, he waded forward, expecting the colt to follow, but it had no disposition to be led; he gave the rein a sharp pull, but the animal also had scruples against being pulled. He then gave the rein a jerk, putting all of his physical strength, and possibly a bit of his temper into the jerk, when, lo! the rein broke, and the preacher, not thinking of such a contingency, went splash into the water, being completely submerged. Things were rapidly going from bad to worse. It was of no use under the circumstances, to try to maintain ministerial dignity. Gathering himself together, he made his way to the fence, and, loosing a picket, he got behind the animal, and with a few strokes where they would do the most good, and unministerial maneuvers, he got it started, and by an aggressive follow-up campaign, they reached the shore without further ceremony or delay.
He hastened on to the church. The people were waiting for the belated pastor, and when he arrived, they saw at once there had been a valid excuse for his tardiness. There were four other ministers present, and Newgent tried to get one of them to preach in his stead, but all declined. So he went on with the regular program, and preached with his usual zeal while the water was still dripping from his new suit. It was one time at least when the congregation was not bored with a dry preacher.
After service he went home with one of his members, borrowed some dry clothes, and proceeded to fill his other appointments for the day.