HE NARROWLY ESCAPED.
Fire! fire!! fire!!! Lurid flames leaping in their mad fury through the
roof of a huge frame church building situated on Laurel Street had
attracted the attention of a Negro woman who had a basket of clothes on
her head. Putting the basket of clothes down on the sidewalk and
expanding her chest, she had thrown her shoulders back and was screaming
as fast and as loudly as she could; for it was the edifice of the church
of which she was a member that was afire. She was a poor, unlettered
woman, but next to God, she loved her church. Having to labor
incessantly from before daylight Monday morning until late Saturday
night, and having neither a nice dwelling nor costly dresses, about her
only pleasure was going to church on Sunday. She felt that here she
heard directly from God out of that mysterious book on the stand, doubly
dear to her, being shrouded in mystery and containing glowing promises
of coming joys. Imagine then the horror, excitement, pathos, despair,
astonishment that this Negro woman threw into her screams on that
midday. No one who heard those screams ever forgot them. Soon the street
was thronged with excited spectators. As fast as the colored "sisters"
came in sight of the burning building they would break forth into loud
piercing screams.
"Good Laws a mussy, de Lawd am lettin' de house ub God burn up," said
one, her hands akimbo on her hips, her eyes bleared, her very soul lost
in amazement at such a sight.
"My Lawd, judgment muss shuah dun cum. You had better pray, sinners!"
shouted another over and over again in a loud voice.
The "sister" who had first screamed ran to the front door and threw
herself violently against it. It gave way and she dashed down the aisle.
She thought she saw a long tail coat disappearing out of a rear window.
She had no time to think of that, however. Her mind was intent on
getting the pulpit Bible. She snatched this from the altar and started
for the door. A burning rafter fell, barely missing her head and
striking her on the shoulder, dislocating her arm. The Bible was knocked
out of her hands. One of the firemen who had now arrived on the scene,
hearing that a woman was in the burning building ran in, in order to
rescue her. He caught her by the dislocated arm and was pulling her
along, giving her excruciating pain. She said to the fireman, "Lemme go.
Git de Bible. Save de Wurd ub God. Save de Wurd."
"The Wurd be blanked," said the irate fireman. "Come along or you will
burn up, old woman." The oath from the lips of the fireman erased every
thought of the fire from her mind. She forgot the Bible. Her excitement
was all gone. She was wondering to herself how a human being could speak
so slightly about the Bible.
"Dese white folks is er sight. I kain't see how dey ken eber 'speck to
git ter hebun. Dat feller done 'saulted my rebrunce fur de Bible. Dey is
enuf ter spile eny body's 'ligion. Ef niggers stay heah in dis country
wid dese cole hearted white folks we woan hab no 'ligion 'tall." Such
were her inward musings, and that too, without a knowledge of the higher
critics. The fire had no more interest for that "sister." She was
thinking of that other and hotter fire sure, as she thought, to get the
irreverent fireman who could "cuss a Bible in a burnin' church."
The crowd swelled, the "sisters" screamed, the fire raged, the firemen
worked valiantly but all to no avail. The flames, glad at being turned
loose in the world once more, refused to release their grasp and
insisted on licking up into their million insatiable little mouths every
piece of timber. Just before the walls crumbled Rev. Josiah Nerve, D. D.
S., came dashing into the crowd. The "sisters" all gathered around the
parson for he was their "parster." He put his handkerchief to his eyes
as though the sight was too sad to behold. With his face buried in his
handkerchief, his lips were moving, giving voice to the sentiments of
his heart. "Thank God! Thank God! or the devil even!!"
The excitement over, the crowd dwindled down, leaving the ashes to the
parson and the "sisters," the brethren being at their work.
"Elder Nerve, look at de bottom ub yer pants' leg." The parson looked
down and saw a large rent made in his pants and a wide-spread stain.
"Dat surely is kerosene oil," said another "sister."
Parson Nerve now exhibited an unwonted degree of confusion. The
"sisters" attributed it, however, to the embarrassment of the parson at
having his spick and span attire disarranged by a snag and an oil stain.
"Whar did you git it?" said another "sister," stooping to look at it.
"Huh, ah,-I-could-not-say,-ay,-Sister Jones," said the parson, again on
his dignity.
"Whar wuz you wen our house got kotched er fire, Elder?" The parson's
dignity suffered a considerable collapse again. "Huh!-Ah! Huh,-huh,-let-
me-see. Why,-sister,-I-am-so troubled-about-our-house-of-worship-that
my-memory-is-sort-of-affected-that-quick. Huh!-ah!-huh! Don't-think-
about-me,-sisters, think-of-your-church! What-are-we-to-do-about that?"
Much to Parson Nerve's relief the "sisters" turned to the discussion of
that theme, the greatest on earth to them. They began thus early to lay
plans for their future.
Parson Nerve soon found a way of absenting himself from the group and
repaired to his study where he secluded himself. "Ha!-ha! ha!" laughed
he in his deep resounding voice. "I-have-got-them-on-the-hip-now.
I've-got them,-ha!-ha!-ha! I-have-been-a-sly-slick-duck, sure. There-
are-now-forty-four-fine-brick churches-owned-by-Negroes-in-this-city.
They are-very-fine,-but-mine-shall-be-finer,-finer,-finer, ha!-ha!-ha!
I-have-been-a-slick-duck. The other-preachers-thought-I-couldn't-build,-
but-I was-waiting-until-the-last-of-them-built,-so-I could-beat-them-all.
Oh!-I-knew-I-would-get old-Spalding. I-will-show-him-what-Old-Man
Nerve-can-do. Won't-he-rave-when-he-sees-my church-going-up-finer-than-
his? He-beats-the balance,-but-I'll-beat-him. Not-only-will-I-beat the-
niggers, but-I-shall-also-beat-the-white-folks. I-shall-then-have-the-
finest-church-house-in-the city,-white-or-colored. Ninety-thousand-dollars
will-be-the-cost. Then,-Good-God! Then-I'll get-my-D.-D. Not-a-nigger-
college-in-the-world will-refuse-me-D.-D.,-when-I-finish-a-building that-
costs-that-much. Oh,-I-knew-I-would-get old-Spalding. He-is-only-a-B.-D.
But-I-will-be a-D.-D.,-Rev.-Josiah-Nerve,-D.-D. No-more-'S.' Well,-I-
deserve-it. Few-men-would-have-had the-grace-to-wait-until-all-the-other-
chaps-were done. And,-then,-think-of-the-risk-I-ran-in-getting-that-old-
house-out-of-the-way. Let-me-look at-that-statute-again."
Going to his desk the parson opened a code of criminal laws and turned
to the desired place. "Arson-from-two-to-twenty-years-in-the
penitentiary,-two-to-twenty,-two-to-twenty. Now,-who-on-earth-would-say-
that-a-man who-would-run-such-a-risk-for-a-house-for God-ought-not-to-
have-D.-D.,-D.-D.,-D.-D., Rev.-Josiah-Nerve,-D.-D.
"Come in," said Parson Nerve, in response to a knock at his study door.
A policeman stepped into the parson's study. The parson dropped into a
chair quickly and hid his torn pants' leg behind the other, that grin of
his entirely gone for once. The policeman failed to observe the parson's
hiding one leg behind the other. He began, "Parson, somebody burned your
church house down. We know that you and your people are much grieved
about it and would like to apprehend the scoundrel. I came to tell you
that we are on his track." The parson looked at the policeman but could
not speak. He saw a gulf opening its yawning jaws to receive him and he
could not even hollow. He stole a glance at the open code.
"Yes," continued the policeman, "we shall get him before night. They are
measuring his tracks now from the rear window of the church out of which
some one caught a glimpse of him jumping. A bloodhound from a near by
city will be brought over on the five train and he will certainly run
him down." The policeman looked over to Rev. Josiah Nerve to hear him
express sentiments of gratification at the vigilance of the police and
the bright prospect of the early capture of the criminal. The Rev. Mr.
Nerve looked at the policeman stupidly, frozen with fear.
"See here!" said the policeman, drawing a bit of torn cloth from his
vest pocket and holding it up to view. "This is a piece of his pants'
leg. When he is found this will identify him beyond question. We found
this hanging to a nail in a fence by which he must have run in making
his escape." Rev. Josiah Nerve neither spoke nor moved. He pressed the
torn pants' leg harder against its protector.
The policeman, anxious to secure some expression of elation from Rev.
Josiah Nerve, and disappointed that he had not thus far secured such,
said, "From the way the people are talking, if the scamp is caught he
will be lynched. The white people like you and your church. Yours is the
only congregation in town that has not joined the craze to have churches
finer than those of the white people. Thus they think well of you and
are sorry for your misfortune. I am a policeman sworn to uphold the
majesty of the law, but I will join a mob to help lynch the scoundrel
that burned your church down. Well, I see you are too grieved to discuss
the matter. Good day, parson," said the policeman, rising to go.
Rev. Josiah Nerve felt a little strength return and he managed to say to
the policeman, in a husky tone, "Good day," and _sotto voce_, "Good by."
The policeman walked away musing to himself, "Surely niggers must have
an immense amount of religion or of something. Now, that darkey preacher
is so grieved about that plaguy barn, that he can't talk."
While the policeman was thus musing as he walked along, Rev. Josiah
Nerve was packing a valise. In the middle of that afternoon, some
farmers not far distant from the city, saw a man wearing a long tail
coat, which was slapping at the wind, his hat in one hand and a valise
in the other, making for the woods at a rapid rate. Rev. Josiah Nerve,
D. D. S., was not heard from in Richmond again. Perhaps he at last
succeeded in dropping the despised "S," and lost his identity in the
numerous throng of the veneered.
The tragic, not the humorous in the experiences of Rev. Josiah Nerve,
appealed to Erma. Had she even then a premonition that she, too, had
been singled out by the wheels of the Juggernaut; that she, too, was to
be the epitome of all that was tragic in the attempts of the Negro and
Anglo-Saxon to journey side by side on the terms elected?