Deacon Gramps sat on his plow-handles. The sultry August day was drawing
to a close. The sun was just ready to roll its bright red disk behind
the western horizon. The Deacon seemed to be in a deep meditation. He
cast a glance at his beautiful farm as it stretched itself out for a
mile toward the river on the one side and nestled snugly against the
foot of the limestone hill on the other side. The large white farmhouse
with green trimming cozily planted on a blue-grass knoll across the
brook seemed to bid him be at rest. The large red barn just back of the
house stood out in sharp contrast against the green-foliaged mountain.
The gold-colored balls on the lightning rods glistened in the farewell
rays of the receding sun. Mount Olivet Church reared her white walls
modestly from the brow of the blue-grass knoll a quarter of a mile
eastward. Deacon Gramps was, at the close of this peaceful summer day,
indulging in a mental congratulation of himself on being so favorably
situated in life. Everybody recognized Farmer Gramps as being the
wealthiest man in all Spruce Township. He owned the finest and fattest
horses that were driven to Mount Olivet Church. His cattle roamed the
forests for miles around, and his hogs cracked acorns on every hillside.
Apart from his worldly wealth he was the most distinguished member of
Mount Olivet church. For years he had been deacon in said church, and
was president of the official board. In fact, he was as truly a part of
the Church as was the pulpit on the platform or the bell in the steeple.
No meeting was complete without him. He was an indispensable part of the
service. He always sat in the same pew, and none coming into the Church
previously to Deacon Gramps ever dared sit in his pew any more than they
dared to monopolize the preacher's chair in the pulpit. He always
enjoyed the double pleasure of chewing his tobacco and hearing the
sermon simultaneously, and this necessitated his occupying a pew near
the window, as you may well suppose. This window was known to roguish
boys as "Deacon Window" and not even the bravest of these boys dared
peep through this window during services as was their custom in the
case of the other windows.
Perhaps it is needless to say that the uninterrupted presence of Gramps
had a profound influence upon the service. No preacher dared to fail to
recognize his dignity. As well as being an officer in the church he was
the heaviest contributor to its collections. He had a very curious habit
of twitching his right ear when the preacher said something that did not
just set well with him, and it naturally followed that every pastor who
ever served Mount Olivet fell into the habit of watching Gramp's ear,
and of course the sermon was governed accordingly. Thus "According to
the deacon's ear," came to be a by-word through the community.
Well, as I have already said, Deacon Gramps sat on his plow-handles.
Just as he turned to unfasten the trace-chains from the plow to drive
his horses to the barn, he saw two men climbing over the whitewashed
fence that led from the barn toward the Church on the hill. Seeing these
men were coming towards him, he resumed his position on the plow-handles
and waited for them. As the two men drew near, he recognized in them the
familiar features of Deacon Brown and Deacon Jones.