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The Unknown Wrestler Part 10

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"Yes, that's who I am," was the reply. "But how in the world did you hear about our wrestling match?"

"Oh, news travels fast in Rixton, especially if Empty Dempster is the carrier."

Douglas sat down upon a bench and observed Joe intently, as he gave the final touch to a shoe in his lap. Many years had pa.s.sed since he had watched such work, and he recalled the old shoe-maker he used to know when a lad.

"Can you fix the traces to-day?" he enquired. "If so, I might as well wait for them."

"Yes, I'll mend them at once," and Joe put the finished shoe carefully down by its mate. "I'm not rushed this afternoon."

"You are kept busy as a rule, I suppose?"

"Yes, always mending something. I have been doing it for over thirty years now, and there is never any let-up."

"You must get very tired of it at times."

"No, I can't say I do. It gives me plenty of time to think as I sit here alone in my little shop. I often wish that I could mend everything in life as easily as I can a pair of shoes."

"Why, do you find things out of joint?" Douglas queried. "You haven't seen much of the world, I suppose?"

"I don't have to travel to see the world, sir," and Joe paused in his work and looked earnestly into his visitor's face. "I can see the world right in this parish; that is, as much as I want to see of it."

"And you think there are many things here which need to be mended?"

"I certainly do. My heart is heavy all the time over the sad condition of this parish. The church is closed; the bell is never rung; and the rectory is falling into decay. But they are merely outward signs of the real state of the community. The people do not wors.h.i.+p any more, and the children never go to Sunday school. With this spiritual sloth has come a great moral decline, and there are all kinds of sins and evil things committed of which we, as a rule, were free years ago."

"What is the cause of all this?" Douglas enquired.

"There are various reasons. The most important, I suppose, is the lack of the right kind of a clergyman, who would understand the people, and be a real leader. If he could win the sympathy of the majority in this parish, the rest might be overcome."

"But didn't you have good men in the past?"

"Oh, yes, we've always had good men in a way. But of late years the ones we had, as I said, didn't understand the people, and as far as I could see didn't try. They knew nothing about the country ways, and considered themselves above their people. They were always looking for some better field, and made no bones of saying so. They used no tact at all."

"But didn't the people try to help and encourage them?" Douglas asked.

He was beginning to feel that Joe was looking all on one side.

"Most of the people did at first, sir, and I think that things would have come around all right if they had been let alone." Joe paused and examined the st.i.tches he had just put in the trace. "But," he continued, "there's an influence in this parish which has to be reckoned with. I'm not going to say what it is, but if you stay here long enough you'll soon find out for yourself."

"And that influence, whatever it is, would make it hard, then, for any clergyman to work here? Is that what I gather from your words?"

"That's just it."

Douglas longed to know what this influence really was, but he felt it would be better not to enquire further just then. No doubt the shoe-maker had some good reason for not telling what he knew. The only thing, therefore, was for him to find out for himself.

"You must miss the services of the Church very much," he at length remarked.

"I do, I certainly do," Joe emphatically replied. "Though I have service in my own house every Sunday morning, yet it doesn't seem just the same as in the House of G.o.d."

"Do any of the neighbours come?"

"Not one, though I've often invited them. My wife and I are the only two since Jean left us."

"Is she your daughter?"

"Yes, the youngest, and the last of the girls to go from home. We always had a hymn or two when she was here, for Jean had a fine voice."

A far-away look came into the old man's eyes as he uttered these words.

There was a gleam of pride, as well, showing how much he thought of this daughter.

"Where is she now?" Douglas asked.

"She's in the city. She's been in the hospital there nigh on to three years, training to be a nurse. We're looking for her home now any day.

I hope you'll meet her, sir, for my Jean is a comely girl, and as good as she is beautiful. We have been very lonely without her. She always took such an interest in Church matters, and taught in the Sunday school. The children loved her, and she did so much good. I'm not much use in the place, as I have to stay here all the time just mending things. But, Jean! my, she was a power!"

"May I come to your service next Sunday?" Douglas asked as he rose to go.

Into Joe's eyes leaped a look of pleasure.

"Would you care to come?"

"Indeed I should."

"Can you sing?"

"Oh, yes."

"Then you're doubly welcome. It will be great for us to have a stranger join in our simple service."

As Douglas moved towards the door, his attention was arrested by a picture on the wall of the Good Shepherd rescuing a lamb from a dangerous place. He looked at it for a minute in silence.

"Fine picture, that," Joe remarked, as he rose from his bench and came over to the young man's side. "It means very much to me."

"Yes, I suppose so," Douglas absently replied.

"I was just like that lamb there, once," Joe continued in a voice that was low, yet filled with emotion. "I was the wandering sheep, if ever there was one." Here he paused and gazed intently at the picture. "I like to have it before me as I work. It tells me what I once was, and how much He has done for me. It makes me both thankful and careful, and it gives me a feeling of sympathy for any one who has gone astray."

Douglas walked slowly down the road, wrapped in thought. His conversation with the old shoe-maker had done him a world of good. But Joe's little glimpse of his past life was what affected him most of all. How many other wandering sheep there were in the world, nay, in this very parish, he mused. They were straying, as sheep without a shepherd. Some one must bring them back, and who would that some one be?

CHAPTER VIII

HOME FOR REPAIRS

It was Sunday morning, and for the first time since coming to Rixton Douglas felt discontented. It was a most beautiful day, with not a ripple ruffling the surface of the river. A great peace and quietness reigned everywhere, and yet there was something lacking. He could not remember when he had awakened to the Day of Rest and found himself unable to attend the service of his Church. It did not seem right, so he mused, as he stood in front of the house looking down upon the neglected church, that he should not minister to the people. And yet he realised that it would upset all his plans if he attempted such a thing now.

He strolled over to the rectory, and walked through the fields. How he longed to repair the building and cultivate the land. He pictured to himself the vegetables he might raise, and how the whole place could be made a most delightful spot. With a suitable housekeeper, he could have a happy home, visiting his people, caring for his garden, and with some spare time for reading and study.

Hitherto, Douglas had not thought much about any one other than a paid house-keeper. But now a feeling stole into his heart that he would like to have some one else to grace the rectory--a wife, who would make it a real home. Of all the women he had met, he could not think of one he would care to marry, or who in turn would wish to be his wife. He smiled at this idea, thinking that he was becoming sentimental. To shake off the notion, he walked rapidly across the fields toward the church. He had not visited it before, but viewed it only at a distance. Everything around the building spoke of neglect. The graveyard was thick with bushes, long gra.s.s and weeds. He observed several new-made graves, and wondered what clergyman had conducted the funeral services. The church needed painting, and the roof res.h.i.+ngling. He tried the big front door, but found it fastened.

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The Unknown Wrestler Part 10 summary

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