Mary at the Farm and Book of Recipes Compiled during Her Visit Part 18

Later in the day, Mary and Ralph drove to a near-by town, leaving horse and carriage at the hotel until their return in the evening, and boarded a train for Allentown. On arriving there, they decided to walk up Hamilton Street, and later take a car out to the Fair grounds. As they sauntered slowly up the main street, Mary noticed a small church built between two large department stores and stopped to read a tablet on the church, which informed the pa.s.serby that "this is to commemorate the concealment of the Liberty Bell during the Revolutionary War. This tablet was erected by the Liberty Bell Chapter of the Daughters of the Revolution."

The First Zion's Reformed Church was founded in 1762. In front of the Church a rough block of granite, erected to the memory of John Jacob Mickley, contained the following inscription: "In commemoration of the saving of the Liberty Bell from the British in 1777. Under cover of darkness and with his farm team, he, John Mickley, hauled the Liberty Bell from Independence Hall, Philadelphia, through the British lines, to Bethlehem, where the wagon broke down. The Bell was transferred to another wagon, brought to Allentown, placed beneath the floor of the _Second_ Church building of Zion's Reformed Church, where it remained secreted nearly a year. This _tablet_ was placed by the order of the a.s.sembly of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, June 2nd, 1907, under the auspices of the Pennsylvania Daughters of the Revolution."

This was all very interesting to a girl who had been born and reared in Philadelphia; one who in earliest childhood had been taught to love and venerate the "old Bell."

Ralph was quite as interested in reading about the old Bell as was Mary, and said; "Did you know that the City of Philadelphia purchased the State House property, which included the Bell, in 1818, in consideration of the sum of seventy thousand dollars? No building is ever to be erected on the ground inside the wall on the south side of the State House, but it is to remain a public green and walk forever?"

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"No," replied Mary, "I did not know that. I don't think we will see anything of greater interest than this at the Fair."

"I understand," said Ralph, "this is the third church building built on this site, where the original church stood in which the Bell was secreted."

Mary, possessing a fair share of the curiosity usually attributed to the "female of the species," on noticing the church door standing ajar, asked Ralph to step inside with her, thinking to find the caretaker within; but no one was visible. A deep silence reigned in the cool, dim interior of the House of G.o.d.

One could almost feel the silence, 'twas so impressive. Slowly they walked up the wide church aisle and stood before the quaint baptismal font. A stray sunbeam glancing through one of the beautiful, variously-colored memorial windows, lighted up the pictured saint-like faces over the chancel, making them appear as if imbued with life.

Mary softly whispered to Ralph, as if loath to profane the sacredness of the place by loud talking, "I seem to hear a voice saying, 'The Lord is in His holy temple.'" Quietly retracing their steps, they, without meeting any one, emerged into the bright sunlight and were soon in the midst of the turmoil and traffic incident to the princ.i.p.al business street of a city.

The young folks boarded a trolley and in a short time reached the Fair grounds, which offered many attractions to Ralph as well as Mary. The latter was interested in the fine display of needlework, fruits, flowers and vegetables of unusual size. Aunt Sarah's bread won a prize. A blue ribbon attached to Frau Schmidt's highly-prized, old-fas.h.i.+oned, patchwork quilt, showed it to be a winner. Ralph, being interested in the pens of fancy chickens, prize cattle, etc., Mary reluctantly left the woman's department of fancy work, and other interesting things, and accompanied him. On their way to the outlying cattle sheds they noticed two lovers sitting on a bench. Upon a second glance they were convinced that it was Jake and Sibylla. Jake, beaming with happiness, said, "Sibylla vos side by me yet?" They were busily engaged eating a lunch consisting of rolls with hot "weiners" between the two halves, or, as Jake called them, "Doggies," munching pretzels and peanuts between sips of strong coffee, both supremely happy. A yearly visit to the Allentown Fair on "Big Thursday," was _the event_ in their dull, prosaic lives.

[Ill.u.s.tration: DURHAM CAVE]

CHAPTER x.x.x.

FRITZ SCHMIDT EXPLORES DURHAM CAVE.

It appeared to be nothing new for Fritz Schmidt to get into trouble; rather the contrary. One day in early Fall, after the first frost, he, in company with a number of boys, drove to Durham, not many miles distant from his home, in search of persimmons, the crop of which, on account of the severity of the preceding winter, old farmers had predicted would be exceedingly heavy.

Fritz did not tell the boys of his intention to explore a cave which he had been told was in the neighborhood, thinking it would be a good joke to explore the cave first, then tell the boys later of his adventure.

The old gentleman from whom Fritz gained his information relative to the cave aroused the boy's curiosity by saying, "Very many years ago, a skeleton was found in Durham cave and one of the bones, on examination, proved to be the thigh bone of a human being. How he came there, or the manner of his death, was never known." A large room in the cave is known as "Queen Esther's Drawing Room," where, tradition has it "Queen Esther," or Catharine Montour, which was her rightful name, at one time inhabited this cave with some of her Indian followers.

Fritz accidentally stumbled upon the mouth of the cave. None of the other boys being in sight, Fritz quickly descended into the cave, which was dark as night. By lighting a second match as quickly as one was burned, he explored quite a distance, when, accidentally dropping his box of matches, the burning match in his hand, at the same moment, flickered faintly, then went out, leaving Fritz in darkness. Imagine the feelings of the boy, as he groped unsuccessfully on the floor of the cavern for the lost match box. Finally, he gave up in despair.

Fritz was not a cowardly boy, but while searching for the matches, he, without thinking, had turned around several times, lost his bearings and knew not in which direction to go to reach the opening of the cave. He heard strange noises which he imagined were bats flopping their wings. There appeared to be something uncanny about the place, and Fritz devoutly wished himself out in the suns.h.i.+ne, when a quotation he had frequently heard his father use came into his mind: "More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of." So Fritz knelt down and prayed as he had been taught to pray at his mother's knee, but more earnestly than he had ever prayed before in his life, that G.o.d would help him find his way out of the cave, believing that his prayer would be answered. And who shall say it was not answered? For, stumbling onward in the darkness, not knowing if he were coming toward the cave's entrance or going in the opposite direction, he eventually hailed with joy a faint streak of light which he followed, and it soon brought him to the mouth of the cave. He was surprised on joining his companions to find they had not been alarmed at his absence. He had been in the cave only thirty minutes, but to him it had seemed hours. Fritz says to this day he has a horror of Durham Cave or "The Devil's Hole," as it was formerly called.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE WOODLAND STREAM]

CHAPTER x.x.xI.

MARY'S MARRIAGE.

His vacation ended, after a busy season at the farm, Ralph Jackson returned to his work in the city, strong and robust. He had acquired the coat of tan which Mary's Uncle had predicted. Physically strong as the "Cave Man" of old, he felt capable of moving mountains, and as was natural, he being only a human man, longed for the mate he felt G.o.d had intended should one day be his, as men have done since our first gardener, Adam, and will continue to do until the end of time.

When visiting the farm, an event which occurred about every two weeks, Ralph constantly importuned Mary to name an early day for their marriage.

Mary, with a young girl's impulsiveness, had given her heart unreservedly into the keeping of Ralph Jackson, her first sweetheart.

Mary was not naturally cold or unresponsive, neither was she lacking in pa.s.sion. She had had a healthy girlhood, and a wholesome home life.

She had been taught the conventional ideals of the marriage relations that have kept the race strong throughout the centuries. Mary possessed great strength of character and fine moral courage.

Frequently, not wis.h.i.+ng to show her real feeling for the young man; too well poised to be carried off into the wrong channel, defended and excused by many over-sentimental and light-headed novelists of the day, she sometimes appeared almost indifferent to the impetuous youth with warm, red blood leaping in his veins, who desired so ardently to possess her.

Mary's Aunt had taught her the sanct.i.ty of parenthood, also that women are not always the weaker s.e.x. There are times when they must show their superiority to "mere man" in being the stronger of the two, mentally if not physically, and Ralph Jackson knew when he called Mary "wife" she would endow him with all the wealth of her pure womanhood, sacredly kept for the clean-souled young man, whose devotion she finally rewarded by promising to marry him the second week in October.

Sibylla Linsabigler, a good but ignorant girl, accustomed to hearing her elder brothers speak slightingly regarding the sanct.i.ty of love and marriage, was greatly attached to Mary, whom she admired exceedingly, and looked up to almost as a superior being. She unconsciously imitated many of Mary's ways and mannerisms, and sought to adopt her higher ideals of life and standard of morals.

One Sunday, as Jake Crouthamel was spending the evening with Sibylla, as was his usual custom, he attempted some slight familiarity, which annoyed Sibylla greatly. Jake, noticing the young girl's displeasure at his action, remarked, "I think me Sibylla, you are stuck up yet" (a grave fault in the Bucks County farm hand's opinion).

"No, Chake," Sibylla replied, "I ain't, but Mary, she say a man gives a girl more respect what keeps herself to herself before she is married, and I lofe you Chake and want that you respect me if we marry."

Fritz and Elizabeth Schmidt, on hearing the news of Mary's approaching marriage, promptly begged the privilege of decorating the old farm house parlor for the expected ceremony. They scoured the surrounding woods and countryside for decorations; along old stone fences and among shrubbery by the roadside they gathered large branches of Bitter Sweet. Its racemes of orange-colored fruit, which later in the season becomes beautiful, when the orange gives place to a brilliant red, the outer covering of the berry turns back upon the stems, forming one of the prettiest pictures imaginable in late Autumn. They also gathered branches of feathery wild clematis, which, after the petals had fallen, resembled nothing so much as a cl.u.s.ter of apple seeds, each seed tipped with what appeared like a tiny osprey feather. From the woods near the farm they gathered quant.i.ties of trailing ground pine and rainbow-tinted leaves from the numerous brilliant scarlet and yellow maples, which appeared brighter in contrast to the sober-hued trees of sh.e.l.lbark, oak and chestnut.

[Ill.u.s.tration: POLLY SCHMIDT.]

The wedding gifts sent to Mary were odd, useful and numerous. The Campfire Girls, to whom she became endeared, gave her a "Kitchen Shower," consisting of a clothes basket (woven by an old basketmaker from the willows growing not far distant), filled to overflowing with everything imaginable that could possibly be useful to a young housekeeper, from the half dozen neatly-hemmed linen, blue ribbon tied, dish clothes, to really handsome embroidered articles from the girls to whom she had given instructions in embroidery during the past summer.

Sibylla's wedding present to Mary was the work of her own strong, willing hands, and was as odd and original as useful. 'Twas a "door mat" made from corn husks, braided into a rope, then sewed round and round and formed into an oval mat. Mary laughingly told Sibylla she thought when 'twas placed on her kitchen doorstep she'd ask every one to please step over it, as it was too pretty to be trod on, which greatly pleased the young girl, who had spent many hours of loving thought and labor on the simple, inexpensive gift.

Mary received from Professor Schmidt a small but excellent copy of one of the world's most famous pictures, "The Night Watch," painted by Rembrandt, in 1642.

"My dear," said the old Professor, "I saw what _was said to be_ the original of this painting, the property of Queen Wilhelmina of Holland, at the St. Louis Exposition in 1904. It was in a small, separate building. The size of the picture was fifteen feet by twenty feet. It is the largest and best known of Rembrandt's works. It acquired the wrong t.i.tle of 'Night Watch' in a period when, owing to the numerous coats of varnish and the effect of smoke and dust, it had gotten so dark in appearance that only the most lucid parts could be discerned. Nowadays, n.o.body doubts that the light falling from the left on the boisterous company is that of the sun. The musketeers are remarching out of the high archway of their hall, crossing the street in front of it, and going up a bridge. The architecture of the building is a product of Rembrandt's imagination. The steps, also, which we see the men descending, were put there simply to make those at the back show out above those in the front ranks. The march out was to be above all a portrait group. Sixteen persons had each paid their contributions, a hundred guilders on the average, to have their likenesses transmitted to posterity, and every one of them was therefore to be fully visible."

"It is certainly a wonderful picture," said Mary, "and while I have seen few pictures painted by old masters, I think, even with my limited knowledge of art, I cannot fail to appreciate this excellent copy, and I thank you heartily. Professor, and shall always be reminded of you when I look at this copy of a great work."

Mary would not go empty-handed to Ralph at her marriage. Her "hope chest" in the attic was full to overflowing, and quite unique in itself, as it consisted of an old, in fact ancient, wooden dough-tray used in times past by Aunt Sarah's grandmother. Beside it stood a sewing table, consisting of three discarded broom handles supporting a cheese-box cover, with wooden cheese-box underneath for holding Mary's sewing; stained brown and cretonne lined. Mary valued it as the result of the combined labor of herself and Ralph Jackson. A roll of new, home-made rag carpet, patchwork quilts and "New Colonial" rugs, jars of fruit, dried sweet corn, home-made soap, crocks of apple b.u.t.ter, jellies, jams and canned vegetables all bore evidence of Mary's busy Summer at the farm.

The day of Mary's marriage, the twelfth of October, dawned clear and bright, suns.h.i.+ne warm as a day in June. In the centre of the gayly-decorated old farm house parlor, wearing a simple, little, inexpensive dress of soft, creamy muslin, we find Mary standing beside Ralph, who is looking supremely satisfied and happy, although a trifle pale and nervous, listening to the solemn words of the minister.

Ralph's "I will" sounded clearly and distinctly through the long room.

Mary, with a sweet, serious, faraway look in her blue eyes, repeated slowly after the minister, "I promise to love, honor and"--then a long pause. She glanced shyly up at the young man by her side as if to make sure he was worth it, then in a low, clear tone, added, "obey."

Ralph Jackson certainly deserved the appellation "Cave Man" given him by Fritz Schmidt. He was considerably more than six feet in height, with broad, square shoulders, good features, a clear brain and a sound body. He had never used intoxicants of any description. He sometimes appeared quite boyish in his ways, for on account of his matured look and great size he was frequently judged to be older than he really was.

Aunt Sarah had provided a bounteous repast for the few friends a.s.sembled, and while looking after the comfort of her guests tears dimmed the kindly, gray eyes at the thought of parting from Mary.

Small Polly Schmidt, as flower girl at the wedding, was so excited she scarcely knew if she should laugh or cry, and finally compromised by giving Mary what she called a "bear hug," much to Mary's amus.e.m.e.nt.

Fritz gravely said: "Allow me to congratulate you, Mr. Jackson," and turning to Mary, "I wish you a beautiful and happy life, Mrs.

Jackson." Mary blushed becomingly on hearing her new name for the first time.

Bidding farewell to friends, Mary and Ralph, accompanied by her Uncle, were driven by "Chake" to the depot in a near-by town, where they boarded the train for the little, newly-furnished home in the suburbs of Philadelphia, the deed of which was Mary's wedding gift from her Uncle, in appreciation of her faithful service on the farm during the summer and for the brightness she had brought into his life and the lives of those with whom she had come in contact, as every one at the farm had felt the captivating charm and winning sweetness of the young girl.

As the train came in sight, the old gentleman, in a voice husky with emotion, bade the young couple, just starting the journey of life together, an affectionate farewell, and repeated solemnly, almost as a benediction, "Es Salamu Aleik.u.m."