The Old Peabody Pew: A Christmas Romance of a Country Church

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Wiggin Kate Douglas Smith. The Old Peabody Pew: A Christmas Romance of a Country Church

Dedication

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

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Edgewood, like all the other villages along the banks of the Saco, is full of sunny slopes and leafy hollows.  There are little, rounded, green-clad hillocks that might, like their scriptural sisters, “skip with joy,” and there are grand, rocky hills tufted with gaunt pine trees—these leading the eye to the splendid heights of a neighbour State, where snow-crowned peaks tower in the blue distance, sweeping the horizon in a long line of majesty.

Tory Hill holds its own among the others for peaceful beauty and fair prospect, and on its broad, level summit sits the white-painted Orthodox Meeting-House.  This faces a grassy common where six roads meet, as if the early settlers had determined that no one should lack salvation because of a difficulty in reaching its visible source.

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“It would, indeed,” the president answered; “but it will take us all winter to pay for the present improvements, without any thought of fresh paint.  If only we had a few more men-folks to help along!”

“Or else none at all!” was Lobelia Brewster’s suggestion.  “It’s havin’ so few that keeps us all stirred up.  If there wa’n’t any anywheres, we’d have women deacons and carpenters and painters, and get along first rate; for somehow the supply o’ women always holds out, same as it does with caterpillars an’ flies an’ grasshoppers!”

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