THE LITTLE CHURCH IN THE COULEE.
From the lower slopes of the Cedar Hills issued many wide wooded
ravines. Of these none were prettier than Spring Coulee which even in
winter retained its attractiveness, having a goodly sprinkling of
evergreen trees among the poplars and cottonwoods lining its sides. A
grassy level formed the bottom of the coulee. Through the centre of
this a little crystal-clear stream, rising in the hills behind and
swelled by an occasional spring which gushed from the sides of the
ravine, danced over its pebbly bed to join Berry Creek a mile away.
The coulee was a sheltered nook when bitter winds swept the higher
grounds above; it was cool when scorching heat yellowed the grasses of
the plain.
So a little church had been built there. The four walls of peeled logs
carefully chinked with plaster were now grey and weathered. Inside of
the building the red-draped altar, pulpit and reading-desk occupied at
least one-third of the available space. There were pews to seat a
score of people and behind these was a large heater. The uneven walls
were whitewashed. In the windows, three on each side, were alternate
blue and white panes of glass.
Mr. Wells the clergyman was of English birth, very conservative and
inclined to be shy. He was unusually tall with broad shoulders. Mrs.
Wopp once said of him, “When Mr. Wells gits his gownd on, he’s the
hull lan’scape.” The deeply pious lady seldom criticized things
ecclesiastical; but she had “feelin’s that ef Ebenezer Wopp bed of
took to larnin’ like his Mar wished, he’d of looked amazin’ well in
that pulpit, better nor Mr. Wells.”
One brilliant Sunday Mr. Wells paced up and down in the sunshine
before his little church. An ardent lover of nature he was admiring
the beautiful shades of the foliage on either hand and the gorgeous
masses of golden-rod that lifted feathery heads to the sun. Presently
seeing two or three vehicles approaching he retired into the church.
Down the road came a democrat. In the front seat sat Mr. and Mrs. Wopp
resplendent in Sunday attire and both wearing bouquets of bright
nasturtiums. Behind them sat Moses and Betty also dressed in their
best. Moses was cogitating, “Its a blessin’ Betty’s eyebrows hev
growed out. She cut an orful figger without them.” Keeping pace with
the democrat; but roving here and there in search of gophers ran
Jethro enjoying himself mightily.
Not far behind the democrat came a light buggy drawn by a team of
greys. Howard Eliot and Nell Gordon sat therein.
Next followed a buckboard gaily painted red. Mrs. Mifsud and her
daughter Maria aged fourteen who had taken a “quarter” of music
lessons and was now the organist of the church, were occupants.
Between them was wedged the pet of the family St. Elmo Mifsud a child
of four. St. Elmo wore long chestnut curls and an angelic expression.
Clarence Egerton Crump, Mrs. Mifsud’s nephew who was visiting his aunt
and cousins, accompanied the family on his wheel.
Behind the Mifsuds followed a few other parishioners.
The service began and was proceeding with its accustomed smoothness
and decorum when a most unseemly interruption occurred. Maria Mifsud
had long entertained suspicions that all was not well with the
interior of the organ. Lately a few of the notes had refused to make a
sound, and to-day there seemed to be more of these delinquents than
ever. While Mr. Bliggins was collecting the offering Maria began to
play a voluntary carefully practised beforehand. She had fairly
launched into “One Sweetly Solemn Thought” when suddenly she discerned
peering curiously at her through one of the round holes which adorn
the front of the instrument the small bright eye of a mouse. The
intruder was apparently quite calm and self-possessed. Not so Maria.
With a piercing shriek she jumped from the organ stool and rushing to
the back of the church leaped wildly to the seat beside her
scandalized and uncomprehending mother. Almost at the same moment the
offending mouse scampered down the internal anatomy of the organ and
gained freedom through an exit beside the pedals. Mr. Wells turned
crimson and stood on one foot. Most of the ladies of the congregation
drew their feet up on the seat beside them. The mouse ran furiously
along the sacred aisles of the church.
In the meantime, affairs outside were in a more lethargic condition.
The Wopp’s steady-going brown team Josh and Jake tied to a wheel of
the democrat stood enjoying a small pile of hay on the ground before
them. Beneath the democrat sat Jethro watching with eager gaze for the
reappearance of his friends. Occasionally he administered chastisement
to an impertinent fly which after buzzing around in a tantalizing
manner ventured to settle on his nose or ear. After an hour of intense
boredom he rose, stretched himself, yawned; then began to walk
sedately towards the church. He intended to find out what was going on
anyway. He had been told to watch the democrat; but there were limits
to even canine patience. He reached the church door just in time to
see a small, badly-frightened mouse running madly up the aisle. Quick
as a flash he gave chase, uttering short, excited yelps as he ran. The
mouse redoubled its speed. So did Jethro. Round and round the church
they raced. In his excitement and mad haste Jethro, intent only on his
immediate task, ran violently against Mr. Bliggins who stood
transfixed in the aisle, his work only half completed. Though he
managed to retain his balance the collection plate was jolted from his
hand and in its clattering descent was accompanied by the tinkling of
a small shower of silver coins which rolled here and there over the
floor of the church.
“By heck!” ejaculated Mr. Wopp who sat in the front seat beside his
wife and Betty. Then he glanced hastily around to see if anyone had
noticed his irreverent outburst. But no one had. They were all too
intent on other matters.
After several rounds the mouse, at last seeing the open door, darted
through it to freedom. Jethro a short distance behind assayed to
follow; but taking a short cut under the back seat on which huddled
the Mifsud family he unexpectedly encountered his ancient enemy Snappy
the Mifsud’s collie. Snappy, who had been roused from his slumbers
under the buckboard by the commotion in the church, had crept in
unnoticed and had been an interested spectator of the proceedings.
Jethro’s always superabundant energies were now turned in a new
direction. Snarls and snaps and the fiercest growls testified to the
bitterness of the feud.
Moses Wopp, sitting with Clarence Crump on a bench near the door had
hitherto been enjoying himself hugely. Now fearing injury to his
beloved dog he rushed boldly to the rescue. Clarence followed more
slowly. It was but the work of a few moments to separate the
combatants and remove them from the church. Jethro borne away to a
safe distance in the arms of Moses still uttered occasional rumbling
growls, each individual hair on his spine standing erect. Clarence
kept a firm hold on Snappy’s collar.
“Jeth could whip your ole mongrel; but I don’t warnt him bit up,”
called Moses over his shoulder as he walked away. To this taunt
Clarence replied only with a hideous grimace.
Inside the church matters were beginning to resume a normal condition.
But Mr. Wells still badly shaken and feeling unable to proceed
announced, “My friends we will conclude our service with a hymn. Will
some one suggest a suitable one.”
“The strife is o’er, the battle done,” recommended Mrs. Wopp without
hesitation. As Maria could not be persuaded to approach the organ the
singing was lustily led by Mrs. Wopp and under her able leadership
maintained the most vigorous proportions.