An ordained minister, acting as the emissary of the Lord, following instructions given to him by an angel - Satan should not have been able to thrust him out of the house like that, before he even knew what was happening. Satan should have had no power over him, to drive him from the house that way. For it had been his own failure, he knew that now. He could not bear to face the Visitor, knowing how he had failed. Reverend Thrower opened the door of the church and walked slowly, fearfully inside. No ma'am, it's like the devil himself, that's what it's like The spirit of evil They might like a man they laughed at, but they wouldn't respect him, and they wouldn't vote for him. Come the time when the Wobbish country was made a state, they'd tell that story at every polling place. Never to his face, of course, cause there was hardly a soul between Lake Canada and the Noisy River who didn't owe him money or need his maps to prove their claims. They'd be laughing behind their hands, all right. How Armor-of-God Weaver, storekeeper for the western country, future governor, got throwed right off a porch into the snow by his old father-in-law. Soon enough the tale would be all up and down the Wobbish. He was shamed afore his own wife, cause sooner or later she'd hear the tale from one of those children. He didn't care about her working alongside him in the store. He didn't care about sweet nights and gentle mornings. She was pretty enough, for a frontier woman, but he didn't care about pretty right now. It was the death of his plans he was facing, and his wife just had too much of that Miller family look about her. And in the church he could pray and try to understand why the Lord didn't help him. Thrower had firewood there, so he'd be warm. He had to get indoors, but he couldn't bear to knock on anybody's door. His shirt was already wet, and now it clung to him and froze him to the bone.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |