Abijah Flaggs shrewd Yankee guesses were not far from the truth, though he was not in possession of all the facts. It will be remembered by those who have been in the way of hearing Rebeccas experiences in Riverboro, that the Rev. and Mrs. Burch, returned missionaries from the Far East, together with some of their children, all born under Syrian skies, as they always explained to interested inquirers, spent a day or two at the brick house, and gave parlor meetings in native costume.
These visitors, coming straight from foreign lands to the little Maine village, brought with them a nameless enchantment to the children, and especially to Rebecca, whose imagination always kindled easily. The romance of that visit had never died in her heart, and among the many careers that dazzled her youthful vision was that of converting such Syrian heathen as might continue in idol worship after the Burches efforts in their behalf had ceased. She thought at the age of eighteen she might be suitably equipped for storming some minor citadel of Mohammedanism; and Mrs. Burch had encouraged her in the idea, not, it is to be feared, because Rebecca showed any surplus of virtue or Christian grace, but because her gift of language, her tact and sympathy, and her musical talent seemed to fit her for the work.
It chanced that the quarterly meeting of the Maine Missionary Society had been appointed just at the time when a letter from Mrs. Burch to Miss Jane Sawyer suggested that Rebecca should form a childrens branch in Riverboro. Mrs. Burchs real idea was that the young people should save their pennies and divert a gentle stream of financial aid into the parent fund, thus learning early in life to be useful in such work, either at home or abroad.
The girls themselves, however, read into her letter no such modest participation in the conversion of the world, and wishing to effect an organization without delay, they chose an afternoon when every house in the village was vacant, and seized upon the Robinsons barn chamber as the place of meeting.
Rebecca, Alice Robinson, Emma Jane Perkins, Candace Milliken, and Persis Watson, each with her hymn book, had climbed the ladder leading to the haymow a half hour before Abijah Flagg had heard the strains of Daughters of Zion floating out to the road. Rebecca, being an executive person, had carried, besides her hymn book, a silver call-bell and pencil and paper. An animated discussion regarding one of two names for the society, The Junior Heralds or The Daughters of Zion, had resulted in a unanimous vote for the latter, and Rebecca had been elected president at an early stage of the meeting. She had modestly suggested that Alice Robinson, as the granddaughter of a missionary to China, would be much more eligible.
No, said Alice, with entire good nature, whoever is ELECTED president, you WILL be, Rebeccayoure that kindso you might as well have the honor; Id just as lieves be secretary, anyway.
If you should want me to be treasurer, I could be, as well as not, said Persis Watson suggestively; for you know my father keeps china banks at his storeones that will hold as much as two dollars if you will let them. I think hed give us one if I happen to be treasurer.
The three principal officers were thus elected at one fell swoop and with an entire absence of that red tape which commonly renders organization so tiresome, Candace Milliken suggesting that perhaps shed better be vice-president, as Emma Jane Perkins was always so bashful.
We ought to have more members, she reminded the other girls, but if we had invited them the first day theyd have all wanted to be officers, especially Minnie Smellie, so its just as well not to ask them till another time. Is Thirza Meserve too little to join?
I cant think why anybody named Meserve should have called a baby Thirza, said Rebecca, somewhat out of order, though the meeting was carried on with small recognition of parliamentary laws. It always makes me want to say:
Thirza Meserver
Heaven preserve her!
Thirza Meserver
Do we deserve her?
Shes little, but shes sweet, and absolutely without guile. I think we ought to have her.
Is guile the same as guilt? inquired Emma Jane Perkins.
Yes, the president answered; exactly the same, except one is written and the other spoken language. (Rebecca was rather good at imbibing information, and a master hand at imparting it!) Written language is for poems and graduations and occasions like thiskind of like a best Sunday-go-to-meeting dress that you wouldnt like to go blueberrying in for fear of getting it spotted.
Id just as lieves get guile spotted as not, affirmed the unimaginative Emma Jane. I think its an awful foolish word; but now were all named and our officers elected, what do we do first? Its easy enough for Mary and Martha Burch; they just play at missionarying because their folks work at it, same as Living and I used to make believe be blacksmiths when we were little.
It must be nicer missionarying in those foreign places, said Persis, because on Africs shores and Indias plains and other spots where Satan reigns (thats fathers favorite hymn) theres always a heathen bowing down to wood and stone. You can take away his idols if hell let you and give him a bible and the beginnings all made. But wholl we begin on? Jethro Small?
Oh, hes entirely too dirty, and foolish besides! exclaimed Candace. Why not Ethan Hunt? He swears dreadfully.
He lives on nuts and is a hermit, and its a mile to his camp through the thick woods; my motherll never let me go there, objected Alice. Theres Uncle Tut Judson.
Hes too old; hes most a hundred and deaf as a post, complained Emma Jane. Besides, his married daughter is a Sabbath-school teacherwhy doesnt she teach him to behave? I cant think of anybody just right to start on!
Dont talk like that, Emma Jane, and Rebeccas tone had a tinge of reproof in it. We are a copperated body named the Daughters of Zion, and, of course, weve got to find something to do. Foreigners are the easiest; theres a Scotch family at North Riverboro, an English one in Edgewood, and one Cuban man at Millkins Mills.
Havent foreigners got any religion of their own? inquired Persis curiously.
Ye-es, I spose so; kind of a one; but foreigners religions are never rightours is the only good one. This was from Candace, the deacons daughter.
I do think it must be dreadful, being born with a religion and growing up with it, and then finding out its no use and all your time wasted! Here Rebecca sighed, chewed a straw, and looked troubled.
Well, thats your punishment for being a heathen, retorted Candace, who had been brought up strictly.
But I cant for the life of me see how you can help being a heathen if youre born in Africa, persisted Persis, who was well named.
You cant. Rebecca was clear on this point. I had that all out with Mrs. Burch when she was visiting Aunt Miranda. She says they cant help being heathen, but if theres a single mission station in the whole of Africa, theyre accountable if they dont go there and get saved.
Are there plenty of stages and railroads? asked Alice; because there must be dreadfully long distances, and what if they couldnt pay the fare?
That part of it is so dreadfully puzzly we mustnt talk about it, please, said Rebecca, her sensitive face quivering with the force of the problem. Poor little soul! She did not realize that her superiors in age and intellect had spent many a sleepless night over that same accountability of the heathen.