CHAPTER X.

n’tgotochurchforifyou’daroastingbit,itmightbeasyoucouldn’tleaveit,beingaloneman.Butthere’sthebakehus,ifyoucouldmakeupyourmindtospendatwopenceontheovennowandthen,—noteveryweek,incourse—Ishouldn’tliketodothatmyself,—youmightcarryyourbito’dinnerthere,forit’snothingbutrighttohaveabito’summathotofaSunday,andnottomakeitasyoucan’tknowyourdinnerfromSaturday.Butnow,upo’Christmas-day,thisblessedChristmasasisevercoming,ifyouwastotakeyourdinnertothebakehus,andgotochurch,andseethehollyandtheyew,andheartheanthim,andthentakethesacramen’,you’dbeadealthebetter,andyou’dknowwhichendyoustoodon,andyoucouldputyourtrusti’Themasknowsbetternorwedo,seein’you’dha’donewhatitliesonusalltodo.” Dolly’sexhortation,whichwasanunusuallylongeffortofspeechforher,wasutteredinthesoothingpersuasivetonewithwhichshewouldhavetriedtoprevailonasickmantotakehismedicine,orabasinofgruelforwhichhehadnoappetite.Silashadneverbeforebeencloselyurgedonthepointofhisabsencefromchurch,whichhadonlybeenthoughtofasapartofhisgeneralqueernessandhewastoodirectandsimpletoevadeDolly’sappeal. “Nay,nay,”hesaid,“Iknownothingo’church.I’veneverbeentochurch.” “No!”saidDolly,inalowtoneofwonderment.ThenbethinkingherselfofSilas’sadventfromanunknowncountry,shesaid,“Coulditha’beenasthey’dnochurchwhereyouwasborn?” “Oh,yes,”saidSilas,meditatively,sittinginhisusualpostureofleaningonhisknees,andsupportinghishead.“Therewaschurches—amany—itwasabigtown.ButIknewnothingof’em—Iwenttochapel.” Dollywasmuchpuzzledatthisnewword,butshewasratherafraidofinquiringfurther,lest“chapel”mightmeansomehauntofwickedness.Afteralittlethought,shesaid— “Well,MasterMarner,it’snivertoolatetoturnoveranewleaf,andifyou’veniverhadnochurch,there’snotellingthegoodit’lldoyou.ForIfeelsosetupandcomfortableasniverwas,whenI’vebeenandheardtheprayers,andthesingingtothepraiseandgloryo’God,asMr.Maceygivesout—andMr.Crackenthorpsayinggoodwords,andmorepartic’laronSacramen’Dayandifabito’troublecomes,IfeelasIcanputupwi’it,forI’velookedforhelpi’therightquarter,andgevmyselfuptoThemaswemustallgiveourselvesuptoatthelastandifwe’ndoneourpart,itisn’ttobebelievedasThemasareaboveus’ullbeworsenorweare,andcomeshorto’Their’n.” PoorDolly’sexpositionofhersimpleRaveloetheologyfellratherunmeaninglyonSilas’sears,fortherewasnowordinitthatcouldrouseamemoryofwhathehadknownasreligion,andhiscomprehensionwasquitebaffledbythepluralpronoun,whichwasnoheresyofDolly’s,butonlyherwayofavoidingapresumptuousfamiliarity.Heremainedsilent,notfeelinginclinedtoassenttothepartofDolly’sspeechwhichhefullyunderstood—herrecommendationthatheshouldgotochurch.Indeed,Silaswassounaccustomedtotalkbeyondthebriefquestionsandanswersnecessaryforthetransactionofhissimplebusiness,thatwordsdidnoteasilycometohimwithouttheurgencyofadistinctpurpose. Butnow,littleAaron,havingbecomeusedtotheweaver’sawfulpresence,hadadvancedtohismother’sside,andSilas,seemingtonoticehimforthefirsttime,triedtoreturnDolly’ssignsofgood-willbyofferingtheladabitoflard-cake.Aaronshrankbackalittle,andrubbedhisheadagainsthismother’sshoulder,butstillthoughtthepieceofcakeworththeriskofputtinghishandoutforit. “Oh,forshame,Aaron,”saidhismother,takinghimonherlap,however“why,youdon’twantcakeagainyetawhile.He’swonderfulhearty,”shewenton,withalittlesigh—“thatheis,Godknows.He’smyyoungest,andwespoilhimsadly,foreithermeorthefathermustallayshevhiminoursight—thatwemust.” ShestrokedAaron’sbrownhead,andthoughtitmustdoMasterMarnergoodtoseesucha“picturofachild”.ButMarner,ontheothersideofthehearth,sawtheneat-featuredrosyfaceasameredimround,withtwodarkspotsinit. “Andhe’sgotavoicelikeabird—youwouldn’tthink,”Dollywenton“hecansingaChristmascarrilashisfather’staughthimandItakeitforatokenashe’llcometogood,ashecanlearnthegoodtunessoquick.Come,Aaron,stan’upandsingthecarriltoMasterMarner,come.” Aaronrepliedbyrubbinghisforeheadagainsthismother’sshoulder. “Oh,that’snaughty,”saidDolly,gently.“Stan’up,whenmothertellsyou,andletmeholdthecaketillyou’vedone.” Aaronwasnotindisposedtodisplayhistalents,eventoanogre,underprotectingcircumstancesandafterafewmoresignsofcoyness,consistingchieflyinrubbingthebacksofhishandsoverhiseyes,andthenpeepingbetweenthematMasterMarner,toseeifhelookedanxiousforthe“carril”,heatlengthallowedhisheadtobedulyadjusted,andstandingbehindthetable,whichlethimappearaboveitonlyasfarashisbroadfrill,sothathelookedlikeacherubicheaduntroubledwithabody,hebeganwithaclearchirp,andinamelodythathadtherhythmofanindustrioushammer “Godrestyou,merrygentlemen, Letnothingyoudismay, ForJesusChristourSavior WasbornonChristmas-day.” Dollylistenedwithadevoutlook,glancingatMarnerinsomeconfidencethatthisstrainwouldhelptoallurehimtochurch. “That’sChristmasmusic,”shesaid,whenAaronhadended,andhadsecuredhispieceofcakeagain.“There’snoothermusicequiltotheChristmasmusic—“Harktheerolangilssing.”Andyoumayjudgewhatitisatchurch,MasterMarner,withthebassoonandthevoices,asyoucan’thelpthinkingyou’vegottoabetterplacea’ready—forIwouldn’tspeakillo’thisworld,seeingasThemputusinitasknowsbest—butwhatwi’thedrink,andthequarrelling,andthebadillnesses,andtheharddying,asI’veseentimesandtimes,one’sthankfultohearofabetter.Theboysingspretty,don’the,MasterMarner?” “Yes,”saidSilas,absently,“verypretty.” TheChristmascarol,withitshammer-likerhythm,hadfallenonhisearsasstrangemusic,quiteunlikeahymn,andcouldhavenoneoftheeffectDollycont