I was very fond of the boys, and cherished no
objection to their privileges in the house. But when one went down, on
a cold day, to the register, to write one's chapter on the nature of
amusements in the life to come, and found the dining-room neatly
laid out in the form of a church congregation, to which a certain
proportion of brothers were enthusiastically performing the duties of
an active pastor and parish, the environment was a definite check to
inspiration.
I wonder if all Andover boys played at preaching? It certainly was the
one sport in our house which never satiated.
Coming in one day, I remember, struggling with certain hopeless
purposes of my own, for an afternoon's work, I found the dining-room
chairs all nicely set in the order of pews; a table, ornamented
with Bible and hymn-books, confronted them; behind it, on a cricket,
towered the bigger brother, loudly holding forth. The little brother
represented the audience--it was usually the little one who was forced
to play this duller _role_--and, with open mouth, and with wriggling
feet turned in on the rounds of the chair, absorbed as much
exhortation as he could suffer.
"My text, brethren," said the little minister, "is, 'Suffer the little
children to come unto me.'
"My subject is, _God; Joseph; and Moses in the bulrushes_!"
Discouraged by the alarming breadth of the little preacher's topic, I
fled up-stairs again.
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