A DREAM.
No. 1.
I went to the regular meeting of a W.C.T.U., called for 3 P.M. I
entered as the clock struck. The room was full of chairs and benches,
a large room with few windows and dark corners. There were three hymn
books on the table, and a dusty Bible. The clock ticked on, five
minutes passed, ten minutes, and one timid woman entered, took no
notice of me, but sat with her eyes fixed on the floor, a sad faced
woman I saw as I looked more closely, a tired, hopeless expression in
the droop of her figure. Five minutes more and two busy women came in
with a rush. "What! _nobody_ here? I wish people would be
punctual," said one, "I can only stay half an hour," "I have another
meeting," said the other. The sad faced woman and I were
_invisible,_ it seemed, as neither by look nor act did they
acknowledge our presence. Then three more strolled in leisurely, one
saying, "Oh, Mrs. A., is this meeting at three or half past? I really
forget the hour." Afterwards a few young ladies came in, and seated
themselves in a row, keeping up a whispered conversation in which the
pronouns he, she, and I, were often heard. At half-past three the
President came in, saying, "I am afraid I am a little late, my watch
does not seem to be quite right." Taking a hymn book, she asked,
"What had we better sing, Mrs. B., have you any choice?" No choice
being signified, the leaves were turned over and over, and "Plunged
in a gulf of dark despair" selected and read. "Will some one start
the tune? Mrs. C. will you?" Mrs. C. looked around, waited a minute,
and then asked, "Is it common or long meter?" Another pause. The
little timid woman began a familiar tune, and had the privilege of
singing the first two lines alone. The hymn finished, the President
said, "As it is so late, we will dispense with the reading of the
Scriptures. I will ask Mrs. A. to lead in prayer," at which Mrs. A.
shook her head. "Mrs. C. then will you?" "Excuse me," said Mrs. C.,
so to the back of her chair the president prayed in a very subdued
tone, and I knew _just when_ she was through by the little
rustle and moving of the chair as she arose. The secretary now read
the minutes, after which the president said, "Those in favor of the
minutes will signify it." Two or three hands went up. The treasurer's
report was then presented, but no action taken on it. Although this
was a large town there seemed to be no committees at work, but each
member had been furnished with a pledge book, in which to obtain
signatures. No one had any success to report, had quite forgotten it,
except the little woman mentioned. She produced her book where the
names of half-a-dozen were scrawled with a good thick pen and plenty
of ink. Her report was received in silence. The president, secretary,
and treasurer talked across the table in very low tones, the rest of
the company whispered a little, finally Mrs. ---- said, looking at
her watch, "My half-hour is more than up, I must go." She walked out,
followed by the young ladies. The low tones at the table ceased, the
books were closed, the ladies put on their extra wrappings and went
home. The little woman and I were left alone. "Will you let me see
your book?" I asked. "Oh yes," said she. "I got some of the young men
boarding with me to sign, and I hope they'll keep it. I pray they
may. I _thought_ the sisters would be glad. I wish I could do
more, but it does not seem worth while for _me_ to come to the
meetings. I cannot talk much, and I have so much to do at home. I can
work quietly there and among my acquaintances." As I passed the young
ladies on the way home, I overheard one say, "I am not going to the
Union meetings any more. Two or three do all the talking, and we
can't hear what they say." That evening, as I heard in my dream, the
president said to her husband, "I think once in two months is often
enough to hold our Union meetings. There seems to be nothing to do."
Then I thought, in my dream, that another year had passed, and I came
again to the same town, and wended my way to the place of meeting
where I had been aforetime. Meeting a gentleman near the door I asked
him if the Union still met there. "Oh," said he, "the W.C.T.U. That
died out months ago. Women don't know very much about business, you
see, it is hard for them to keep together."
_Was it all a dream?_
A DREAM.
No. 2.
A bright spring day I thought it was and I walked to the room of the
Y.M.C.A., where a Union meeting was to be held. It was not quite
three o'clock, but I met three or four ladies going in, who asked me
if I was coming to the meeting, and upon my answering "Yes, if I
may," she said, "Oh, certainly, come right in." One of them placed a
seat for me as I went in, and brought me a hymn book, asking if I was
a stranger in town and if I was a member of any Union. As I said I
was a member of ---- Union, she said, "Oh! then, you must tell us of
the work there." Then moving away, and coming back with a lady, she
introduced her as the president of the Union, and the president
expressed her pleasure at meeting another sister interested in the
work. Looking around the room, I saw a bouquet of flowers on the
table, writing materials and reports. Just then the clock struck
three, the president took her chair, gave out the hymn, "Work for the
Night is Coming,' read the 146th Psalm, and engaged in prayer. The
secretary then read the minutes. As the president asked, "Is there
any objection to the minutes?" one lady said that the first
resolution at last meeting was moved by Mrs. B., instead of Mrs. A.
This was corrected and the minutes approved, no other objection being
offered. The treasurer's reports and reports of different committees
were read and adopted. The pledge books produced, and many signatures
had been obtained. The president said, "Let us sing the doxology over
this," and it was sung very heartily. I noticed that all the members
spoke to "Mrs. President," not to each other, and there was no
whispering. The officers at the table spoke so that all could hear. A
short paper was then read on "How we may best help in Scott Act
work." At the invitation of the writer this paper was discussed, some
points objected to, additional methods proposed, and every body was
interested and had learned something. The chairman of the Literature
Committee said she would exchange books in the loan library at the
close of the meeting. Miss S. was asked to prepare a paper for the
next monthly meeting, and after a few words of earnest prayer offered
by a young lady at the request of the president, the meeting
adjourned. The president walked quickly to the door and shook hands
heartily with each member as she passed out, asking kindly after sick
ones and erring ones of the families. "You must come and see me to-
morrow morning, and tell me all about it," I heard her say to a
troubled sister. It was now ten minutes past four o'clock. As I
walked along I overtook the troubled one, and said to her, "You had a
good meeting to-day." Her face brightened as she replied, "Oh, we
always have. I would not like to miss one of our meetings. It always
helps me to go there and hear of the good work being done, and it
makes me stronger to do my share of it. These meetings make you feel
as if somebody cared for you." A group of young ladies were chatting
with some gentlemen at the opposite corner, and I heard a clear,
sweet voice say "We want you both as honorary members of our W.C.T.U.
We are going to have some readings from Dickens and we need your
help; you will join, won't you?" To which the gentlemen replied they
"would be delighted," etc. Then my dream took me to a cozy home where
a young man, just out of his teens, was saying to a lady I had seen
before, "Mother, now the warm weather is coming, and you are not very
strong, you had better give up your meetings." "Oh, no, my son," the
lady said, "there is so much to be done, and it is such a pleasure to
work with our ladies, we must keep right on." In my dream I came
again. This time the Union met in a beautiful room of their own,
furnished as a bright, pleasant parlor, with flowers and pictures and
piano. Their numbers had increased, for the ladies came in groups
till the room was nearly filled. I saw some of the old faces, the
president was the same, a little older in appearance, her walk a
little slower. As she took her place, the sun shone out full in my
face and I awoke.
_Was this, too, only a dream?_