Folly’s Remedy

Folly's Remedy By M. E. Petersen Jim Hathaway didn't see how anyone could love an enemy, especially if that enemy happened to be Sandy Fraser. Mis- sionary though he was, he declared over and over again that nothing could make him lov^e that malicious, foul-mouthed and hateful man. This decision didn't come to Jim in a moment. He had labored for three months as a "Mormon" missionary in Windsor, Nova Scotia, and had made a number of friends. Though many people in this little Acadian town were indifferent to both his message and himself, Jim knew of only one man who, openly at least, was an enemy. That man was Sandy Fraser. Whenever there was the least excuse for it, and often without excuse or provoca- tion of any kind, Fraser had wantonly attacked the reputation of the elders, had circulated false reports and had stirred up a great deal of prejudice against them. The elders in their work scarcely held a street meeting which Fraser didn't dis- turb in some manner. One evening as Jim was preaching on the street corner, Sandy had turned a fire hose upon the listening crowd and had escaped before anyone could catch him. And more than once, after exceeding his usual intake of liquor, highly intoxicated, he had come and set the street corner congregation in an uproar by trying to imitate the mis- sionaries in their speaking. Jim felt that he had stood about all he could from Fraser, and was tempted to show the ruffian what a little Western spirit and two Western fists could do, desisting, however, to maintain his min- isterial dignity and to avoid opening the way for any more persecution. But this very afternoon Sandy Fraser, meeting the elder as he returned from visiting an investigator, warned the young man that unless he and his companion left town at once, and for good, they could expect trouble. Jim knew Fraser too well to consider lightly the trouble part of the threat. That was Sunday. In the evening the two elders were to hold their usual meet- ing in a theatre which was> on the second floor of a corner building, above a grocery store and a Chinese laundry, down near Water street. On reaching home, Jim told Elder Slater, his companion, of his encounter with Sandy Fraser, and asked what he thought they should do about his threat. 'What do the police think about Fraser, Elder Hathaway?" "Oh, they don't take him seriously. They have had him in jail several times for drunkenness, but they've always> let him go the next morning," replied the senior elder. "If it's all right with you, I'll talk to the mayor about him tomorrow," vol- unteered Elder Slater. The two young men prepared to hold their Sabbath evening services. It was a beautiful day, and there was> every pros- pect of a large turnout and a successful meeting. Both elders would speak. The crowd didn't disappoint them, and the hall was well filled, most of their friends being present, in addition to a num- ber of strange faces. After the prelimin- ary singing and praying, Elder Slater spoke on baptism and was followed by Jim, who spoke at some length on the Golden Rule, hoping in thisi manner to ward off some of the ill feeling that he knew Fraser was fomenting. He also noticed some of Fraser's friends in the congregation. Just as Jim was concluding his remarks, a large stone crashed through one of the front windows, falling on the floor im- mediately in front of the speaker's stand.

130 IMPROVEMENT ERA "That's Fraser," said the elder to him- self. Several smaller missiles were hurled through the window, some landing among the congregation, causing a number of the people to make for the door. In an at- tempt to maintain order while he dismissed the meeting, Jim appealed to the congre- gation to remain seated while he pro- nounced the benediction, but no one lis- tened to him and in a moment the hall was empty. "Master, the tempest is raging," quoted Elder Slater in his characteristic humor- ous manner. There never had been a cloud in which he hadn't found a silver lining. "Tempest is right," returned Jim, put- ting out the lights and joining his com- panion at the door. Outside the two missionaries were con- fronted by a large crowd of infuriated townsmen with Fraser at their head. "Now we're givin' you fellas just 24 hours to get out o' this town under your own steam. If you're still here tomorrow at this time you'll have to be carried out, and that's final," Fraser informed them boisterously. Elder Slater clutched Jim's arm, but neither elder spoke. Fraser started shout- ing again, but still the elders said nothing, and proceeded down the sidewalk toward their rooms. Sandy followed them a short distance, emitting a series of oaths and more threats. Elder Slater turned around as though to answer him when his hat was knocked off, and he felt a spatter of something cold and wet on his face and down his neck. "Run, Elder Hathaway," he shouted, "They're throwing eggs at us." And run they did, with a hundred shouting mobbers behind them, and eggs, seemingly of no recent vintage, flying all about them. Reaching their boarding house they quickly entered and went to their rooms, from where they could hear the mob shouting and blaspheming out- side, with occasional eggs spattering against the window panes. Next morning Jim awoke to find him- self alone in his room. On the pillow in place of his companion's curly brown head was a hastily scribbled note: "I'm stealing a march on them, and have gone to see the mayor before he hears their version of last night's affair." Jim felt a glow of pride within him. It wasn't half bad to fight a mob with a companion like that. After a hurried breakfast, Jim left the house. As he went out he saw a large sign crudely painted, hanging on the fence. It read, "Three o'clock ends them 24 hours." "Well, they've advanced the time on us," Jim said to himself. Frankly worried, he went down to- ward the harbor. He wanted to think. Windsor is beautifully situated on an arm of the north Atlantic. Thi9 arm, narrow but deep, reaches for some dis- tance inland, and is usually spoken of as Windsor river because of the swift current of the water at change of tide. There are few places on the Atlantic seaboard where there is a greater differ- ence in the depth of water at high and low tide than at Windsor, where at high tide the water rises nearly 30 feet. Spanning the river were two bridges, one a railroad bridge, and the other a wagon and foot bridge. At intervals across the span both bridges were set upon heavy, square pillars of rock masonry, and deep whirlpools were formed on the lee side of the pillars a9 the water rushed in or out to make the 30-foot rise or fall of tide in the allotted 12 hours. Deep in thought, Jim walked out upon the wagon bridge nearly to midstream, where he leaned against a railing watching the ebbing tide rush out to the ocean. He noticed the driftwood hurry past the bridge, only to be caught in the in- evitable whirlpools which tarried it far be- neath the surface, not to be seen again for a hundred yards down 9tream. Nothing, it seemed to Jim, escaped those eddies. "They're dangerous," the youth said to himself. The water had a soothing effect on his worried mind, and temporarily he forgot all about Sandy Fraser and his threats. He even forgot the suit ruined in the barrage

FOLLY'S REMEDY 131 of scrambled eggs the night before. He could hear some children at play some- where behind him, on the banks or on the railroad bridge. All seemed at peace to Jim in his reverie. He wondered where Elder Slater was, and how he succeeded in his interview with the mayor, and wished for the com- pany of the younger missionary, ever the embodiment of optimism and courage. Suddenly a cry rent the air — a child's cry. It startled Jim. It was a cry for help. Then came many cries, and turn- ing, Jim could see the little boys he had previously heard, feverishly motioning to him and pointing to a little form strug- gling in mid-stream. A child had fallen into the ebbing tide from the railroad bridge! Jim gasped with horror as he thought of the whirlpools and the drift- wood. He must save that child! Throwing off his coat and hat, Jim climbed the railing on the old iron bridge, got his bearings, and plunged 20 feet down to the water. The current pulled him under farther than he thought he should have gone from the force of the dive but after a struggle he came to the surface just as the drowning child passed him, going down stream. Jim lunged for- ward, and with a few strokes caught one of the little boy's hands. As he turned the limp body in his arms to secure a better hold for him swim to land, the elder looked into the unconscious face. It was Sandy Fraser's son, Bobby. Then Jim's head struck something hard, and it dazed him. He felt himself being pounded against what seemed to him a solid wall, and the water roared in his ears. Barely conscious, he gripped the tiny form in his one arm, and with the other hand grasped the stone pillar under the bridge against which his head had struck. That bump on the head weakened Jim, and he wondered how long he could hold on to the stonework. He looked about for help, but could see no one. As the waters receded with the ebb of the tide, Jim noticed the concrete footing on which the stone work was built, ap- pearing near the surface. The stonework had been placed about two feet back from the edge of the cement, making a small ledge all around the pillar. In his heart, Jim thanked the workman who had plan- ned that ledge. He continued to hang on for what seemed to him an interminable length of time, before the level of the water finally dropped below the top of the concrete. Then he carefully laid the limp form of little Bobby on the ledge and climbed up himself. Hurriedly he worked with the child, applying what first-aid measures he knew. Successful in draining the water from the boy's stomach, Jim rubbed Bobby's hands and arms and legs to bring back the circulation. Bobby responded, opened his eyes, began to cry pitifully, and then sank back into unconsciousness. Jim was distracted. He didn't know what else to do for the boy. He renewed his massag- ing, but with no apparent result. Jim became frantic. He rubbed and rubbed, and massaged the boy's whole body. He called to him, dashed cold water in his face, did everything he could think of. Why wouldn't Bobby come to? The rescuer then remembered that he was a missionary, and he prayed. Shiver- ing himself with the cold, the youth pleaded with Deity to save the child's life. He felt more confident then, and contin- ued his massaging, and Bobby opened his eyes. Soon he heard footsteps on the bridge above, and took heart. At last help was coming, he thought to himself. Then he heard voices, and recognized one of them, that of Bobby's father, on his way to Falmouth to work. The footsteps paused just above Jim's head, and he heard Sandy curse. "It's that crazy 'Mormon's' coat and hat, and some of his books, too. Well, he won't use them any more," he heard Sandy say. Then he saw his coat and hat, which he left on the bridge when he leaped for Bobby, and the few tracts he always carried in his pocket, drop into the stream and drift out toward the ocean. Jim's anger rose instantly at Sandy's act. And it was his son he had saved!

132 IMPROVEMENT ERA He looked at the child at his side and the pitiful face smiled up at him. How could little Bobby be the son of so hard-hearted a man, Jim wondered. Was Sandy cruel to him, or was he really as bad as he appeared? The meditations of the missionary were interrupted by the arrival of a launch carrying several longshoremen and Elder Slater who, attracted to the wharf by the excitement there, had heard something about a "Mormon" in the river and had insisted on going out in the boat. "Good boy," shouted Elder Slater to Jim as the launch pulled alongside the big rock pillar. Jim helped little Bobby into the boat and then climbed in himself. The men took Bobby home, and Elder Slater hur- ried Jim to their rooms and put him to bed. "You were wonderful, Elder Hath- away," said his companion, praising him warmly for his heroic act. "No I wasn't," answered Jim, "I did only what anyone would have done under those circumstances. But I do wish, Elder Slater, if you don't mind, that you would go down to Bobby's house and see how he is. Sandy will be at work, so you needn't fear him." Elder Slater had just left when a large man came running up the steps, into the house without knocking, and burst into Jim's room. It was Sandy. Jim wondered what time it was, and if his twenty-four hours grace was up. But big Sandy was half sobbing. Once inside the room his haste ceased, and hesi- tatingly he neared Jim's bed. With broken voice he began to speak. "You never did strike back at me when I have been hurting you. And now you've saved my boy, when you might have let him drown. From now on I'm your friend. If 'Mormonism' makes men like you, I'd like to be a 'Mormon.' " "I wish you would be," replied Jim cheerfully. Still sobbing, big Sandy shuffled out of the room. Alone again, Jim thanked God for the way Sandy's heart had been softened. After all, Fraser wasn't so bad, he had merely misunderstood the elder's message. And a kind act had conquered him. Jim was glad now that Bobby had fallen into the river, and that he had risked his own life to get the boy out again. It was one way of doing mission- ary work — quite a successful way, Jim thought. I was born an American; I live an American; I shall die an American, and I intend to perform the duties incumbent upon me in that character to the end of my career. I mean to do this with absolute disregard of personal con- sequences. What are the personal consequences? What is the individual man, with all the good or evil that may betide him, in comparison with the good or evil which may befall a great country, and in the midst of great transactions which concern that country's fate? Let the consequences be what they will; I am careless. No man can suffer too much, and no man can fall too soon, if he suffer, or if he fall, in defense of the liberties and constitution of his country. — Daniel Webster. Twelve Things to Remember: I. The value of time. 2. The success of perseverance. 3. The pleasure of working. 4. The dignity of simplicity. 5. The worth of character. 6. The power of kindness. 7. The influence of example. 8. The obligation of duty. 9. The wisdom of economy. 10. The virtue of patience. 11. The improvement of talent. 12. The joy of or- iginating.— Marshall Field.