"CROSS PURPOSES."
When people start out with the express design of having a good time,
irrespective of other people's plans or feelings--in short, with a
general forgetfulness of the existence of others--they are very likely
to find at the close of the day that a failure has been made.
It did not take the entire day to convince Eurie Mitchell that
Chautauqua was not the synonym for absolute, unalloyed _pleasure_. You
will remember that she detached herself from her party in the early
morning, and set out to find pleasure, or, as she phrased it, "fun." She
imagined them to be interchangeable terms. She had not meant to be
deserted, but had hoped to secure Ruth for her companion, she not
having the excuse of wishing to report the meetings to call her to them.
Failing in her, in case she should have a fit of obstinacy, and choose
to attend the meetings, Eurie counted fully upon Flossy as an ally. Much
to her surprise, and no little to her chagrin, Flossy proved decidedly
the more determined of the two. No amount of coaxing--and Eurie even
descended to the employment of that weapon--had the least effect. To be
sure, Flossy presented no more powerful argument than that it did not
look well to come to the meeting and then not attend it. But she carried
her point and left the young searcher for fun with a clear field.
Now fun rarely comes for the searching; it is more likely to spring upon
one unawares. So, though Eurie walked up and down, and stared about her,
and lost herself in the labyrinths of the intersecting paths, and tore
her dress in a thicket, and caught her foot in a bog, to the great
detriment of shoe and temper, she still found not what she was searching
for. Several times she came in sight of the stand; once or twice in
sound of the speaker's voice; but having so determinately carried her
point in the morning, she did not choose to abandon her position and
appear among the listeners, though sorely tempted to do so. She wandered
into several side tents in hope of finding something to distract her
attention; but she only found that which provoked her.
In one of them a young lady and gentleman were bending eagerly over a
book and talking earnestly. They were interesting looking people, and
she hovered near, hoping that she had at last found the "children" who
would "play" with her--a remembrance of one of her nursery stories
coming to her just then, and a ludicrous sense of her resemblance to the
truant boy who spent the long, bright day in the woods searching for one
not too busy to play.
But these two were discussing nothing of more importance than the lesson
for the coming Sabbath; and though she hovered in their vicinity for
some time, she caught only stray words--names of places in the far away
Judean land, that seemed to her like a name in the Arabian Nights; or an
eager dissertation on the different views of eminent commentators on
this or that knotty point; and so engrossed were they in their work
that they bestowed on her only the slightest passing glance, and then
bent over their books.
She went away in disgust. At the next tent half a dozen ladies were
sitting. She halted there. Here at last were some people who, like
herself, were bored with this everlasting meeting, and had escaped to
have a bit of gossip. Who knew but she might creep into the circle and
find pleasant acquaintances? So she drew nearer and listened a moment to
catch the subject under discussion. She heard the voice of prayer; and a
nearer peep showed her that every head was bowed on the seat in front,
and one of the ladies, in a low voice, was asking for enlightenment _on
the lesson for the coming Sabbath_!
"What wonderful lesson can it be that is so fearfully important?" she
muttered, as she plunged recklessly into the mud and made her way in all
haste up the hill without attempting any more tents. "Who ever heard
such an ado made about a Sunday-school lesson? These people all act as
though there was nothing of any consequence anywhere but
Sunday-schools. I guess it is the first time that such a _furor_ was
ever gotten up over teaching a dozen verses to a parcel of children. I
wonder if the people at home ever make such a uproar about the lesson? I
know some teachers who own up, on the way to church, that they don't
know where the lesson is. This must be a peculiar one. I wonder how I
shall contrive to discover where it is? The girls won't know, of course.
With all their boasted going to meeting they know no more about lessons
than I do myself. I would really like to find out. I mean to ask the
next person I meet. It will be in accordance with the fashion of the
place. Think of my walking down Broadway of a sunny morning and stopping
a stranger with the query, 'Will you tell me where the lesson is,
please?'" And at this point Eurie burst into a laugh over the absurdity
of the picture she had conjured.
"But this is not Broadway," she said a moment afterward, "and I mean to
try it. Here comes a man who looks as if he ought to know everything. I
wonder who he is? I've seen his face a dozen times since I have been
here. He led the singing yesterday. Perhaps he knows nothing but sing.
They are not apt to; but his face looks as though he might have a few
other ideas. Anyway, I'll try him, and if he knows nothing about it, he
will go away with a confused impression that I am a very virtuous young
lady, and that he ought to have known all about it; and who knows what
good seed may be sown by my own wicked hand?"
Whereupon she halted before the gentleman who was going with rapid
strides down the hill, and said, in her clearest and most respectful
tone:
"Will you be so kind as to tell me where the lesson for next Sabbath
commences? I have forgotten just where it is."
There was no hesitation, no query in his face as to what she was talking
about, or uncertainty as to the answer.
"It is the fifth chapter, from the fifth to the fifteenth verse," he
said, glibly. "All fives, you see. Easy to remember. It is a grand
lesson. Hard to teach, though, because it is all there. Are you a
teacher for next Sunday? You must come to the teachers' meeting
to-morrow morning; you will get good help there. Glorious meeting,
isn't it? I'm so glad you are enjoying it." And away he went.
Every trace of ill-humor had vanished from Eurie's face. Instead, it was
twinkling with laughter.
"The fifth chapter and fifteenth verse" of what? Certainly she had no
more idea than the birds had who twittered above her head. How entirely
certain he had been that of course she knew the general locality of the
lesson. _She_ a teacher and coming to the teachers' meeting for
enlightenment as to how to teach the lesson!
"I wonder who he is?" she said again, as these thoughts flashed through
her brain, and, following out the next impulse that came to her, she
stopped an old gentleman who was walking leisurely down, and said, as
she pointed out her late informant:
"What is that man's name, please? I can't recall it."
"That," said the old gentleman, "is Prof. Sherwin, of Newark. Have you
heard him sing?"
"Yes."
"Well, that is worth hearing; and have you heard him talk?"
"No."
"Well, he can talk; you will hear him, and enjoy it, too; see if you
don't. But I'll tell you what it is, young lady, to know him thoroughly
you ought to hear him pray! There is the real power in a man. Let me
know how a man can pray and I'll risk his talking."
Eurie had got much more information now than she had asked for. She
ventured on no more questions, but made all haste to her tent, where,
seated upon a corner of the bed, one foot tucked under her while the
unfortunate shoe tried to dry, she sewed industriously on the zig-zag
tear in her dress, and tried to imagine what she could do next.
Certainly they had long days at Chautauqua. "I shall go to meeting this
afternoon," she said, resolutely, "if they have three sermons, each an
hour long; and what is more, I shall find out where that Sunday-school
lesson is."
The next thing she did was to write a letter to her brother Nellis, a
dashing boy two years her senior and her favorite companion in her
search for pleasure. Here is a copy of the letter:
"DEAR NEL: I wish you were here. Chautauqua isn't so funny as it might
be. There are some things that are done here continually. In the first
place, it rains. Why, you never saw anything like it! It just can't help
it. The sun puts on a bland face and looks glowing intentions, and while
you are congratulating your next neighbor on the prospect, she is
engaged in clutching frantically after her umbrella to save her hat from
the first drops of the new shower. Next, they have meetings, and there
is literally no postponement on account of the weather. It is really
funny to see the way in which the people rush when the bell rings, rain
or shine. Nel, only think of Flossy Shipley going in the rain to hear a
man preach of the 'Influence of the Press,' or something of that sort!
It was good though, worth hearing. I went myself, because, of course,
one must do something, and the frantic fashion of the place is to go to
meeting. At the same time I don't understand Flossy: she is different
from what she ever was at home. I suppose it is the force of the many
shining examples all around her. You know she always was a good little
sheep about following somebody's lead.
"Marion is reporting, and has to be industrious. She is queer, Nel; she
professes infidelity, you know; and you have no idea how mad she gets
over anything that seems to be casting reproach on Christianity (unless
indeed she says it herself, which is often enough, but then she seems to
think it is all right).
"Ruth keeps on the even tenor of her way. It would take an earthquake to
move that girl.
"I have had the greatest fun this morning. I have been mistaken for a
Sabbath-school teacher who had the misfortune to forget at what verse
her lesson commenced! You see I was cultivating new acquaintances, and a
Prof. Sherwin gave me good advice. That and some other things aroused my
curiosity concerning that same lesson, and I am going to find out where
it is.
"Did you know that Sunday-school lessons were such remarkable affairs?
The one for next Sunday must comprise the most wonderful portion of
Scripture that there is, for hundreds of people on these grounds are
talking about it, and I stumbled upon a party of ladies this morning who
were actually praying over it!
"Another thing I overheard this morning, which is news to me, that all
the world was at work on the same lesson. That is rather fascinating,
isn't it, to think of so many hundreds and thousands of people all
pitching into the same verses on Sunday morning? It is quite
sentimental, too, or capable of being made so, for instance, by a great
stretch of your imagination. Suppose you and me to be very dear friends,
separated by miles of ocean we will say, and both devoted Sabbath-school
teachers, isn't that a stretch now? Such being the astonishing case,
wouldn't it be pleasant to be at work on the same lesson? Don't you see?
Lets play do it. You look up the lesson for next Sabbath and so will I.
Won't that have all the charm of novelty? Then give me the benefit of
your ideas acquired on that important subject, and I'll do the same to
you. Really, the more I think of it the more the plan delights me. I
wonder how you will carry it out? Shall you go to Sunday-school? What
will the dear Doctor say if he sees you walk into his Bible-class? I
really wish I were there to enjoy the sensation. Meantime I'm going to
look up an altogether wonderful teacher for myself, and then for
comparing notes. My spirits begin to rise, they have been rather damp
all the morning, but I see fun in the distance.
"We are to have a sensation this afternoon in the shape of a troupe of
singers called the Tennesseeans--negroes, you know, and they are to give
slave-cabin songs and the like. I expect to enjoy it thoroughly, but you
ought to see Ruth curl her aristocratic nose at the thought.
"'Such a vulgar idea! and altogether inappropriate to the occasion. She
likes to see things in keeping. If it is a religious gathering let them
keep it such, and not introduce negro minstrels for the sake of calling
a low crowd together, and making a little more money.'
"Marion, too, shoots arrows from her sharp tongue at it, but she rather
enjoys the idea, just as she does every other thing that she chooses to
call inconsistent when she happens to be the one to discover it; but woe
to the one who comments on it further than she chooses to go.
"Flossy and I now look with utmost toleration on the dark element that
is to be introduced. I tell Ruth that I am really grateful to the
authorities for introducing something that a person of my limited
capacities can appreciate, and Flossy, with her sweet little charitable
voice, has 'no doubt they will choose proper things to sing.' That
little mouse is really more agreeable than she ever was in her life; and
I am amazed at it, too. I expected the dear baby would make us all
uncomfortable with her finified whims; but don't you think it is our
lofty Ruth who is decidedly the most disagreeable of our party, save and
except myself!"
This interesting epistle was brought to a sudden close by an
interruption. A gentleman came with rapid steps, and halted before her
tent door, which was tied hospitably back.
"I beg pardon," he said, speaking rapidly, "but this is Miss Rider?"
"It is not," Eurie answered, with promptness at which information he
looked surprised and bewildered.
"Isn't this her tent? I am sorry to trouble you, but I have been sent
in haste for her. She is wanted for a consultation, and I was told I
would find her here. Perhaps I might leave a message with you for her?"
"It certainly isn't her tent," Eurie said, trying to keep down the
desire to laugh, "and I haven't the least idea where she is. I should be
glad to give her your message if I could, but I never saw the lady in my
life, and have no reason to expect that pleasure."
Whereupon her questioner laughed outright.
"That is a dilemma," he said. "I appreciate your feelings, for I am
precisely in the same position; but the lady was described minutely to
me, and I certainly thought I had found her. I am sorry to have
interrupted you," and he bowed himself away.
A new curiosity seized upon Eurie--the desire to see Miss Rider. "She
must be one of them," she soliloquized, falling into Flossy's way of
speaking of the workers at Chautauqua. "He said she was wanted for a
consultation. I wonder if she can be one of those who are to take part
in the primary exercises? She must be young for such prominent work if
she looks like me; but how could he know that since he never saw her?
It is very evident that I am to go to Sunday-school next Sabbath anyhow,
if I never did before, for now I have two items of interest to look
up--a lesson that is in the 'fifth chapter, from the fifth to the
fifteenth verse of _something_,' and a being called 'Miss Rider.'" So
thinking she hastily concluded and folded her letter, ready for the
afternoon mail, without a thought or care as to the seed that she had
been sending away in it, or as to the fruit it might bear; without the
slightest insight into the way she was being led through seeming
mistakes and accidents up to a point that was to influence all her
future.