xt7qrf5k9x60 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7qrf5k9x60/data/mets.xml Johnston, Annie F. (Annie Fellows), 1863-1931. 1896  books b92-237-31299292 English Curts & Jennings ; Eaton & Mains, : Cincinnati : New York : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Epworth League (U.S.) Fiction. In league with Israel  : a tale of the Chattanooga Conference / by Annie Fellows Johnston. text In league with Israel  : a tale of the Chattanooga Conference / by Annie Fellows Johnston. 1896 2002 true xt7qrf5k9x60 section xt7qrf5k9x60 




     IN LEAGUE WITH ISRAEL






A Tale uf thve CIattanroga Qmonferrnte


                   YV



      ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON
                 AUTHOR OF
"JOEL: A BoY OF GALILEE  'THE STORY OF THE RESURREC-
    TION;` " BIG BROTHER  " THE LITTLE COLONEL."















       CINCINNATI: CURTS e JENNINGS
         NEW YORK: EATON e MAINS
                   ,896

 




























    COPYRIGHT

BY CURTS & JENNINGS,

       V 96.

 

          TO THE EPWORTH LEAGUE



    What Paul was lo the Gentiles, may you, the Young
Apostle of our Church, become to the Jews. Surely, not as
the priest or the Levite have you so long passed them by "on
the other side."
    Haply, being a messenger on the King's business, which
requires haste, you have never noticed their need. But the
world sees, and, re-reading an old parable, cries out: "Who
is thy neighbor Is it not even Israel also, in thy midst "


                                                  3

 




















lior knoweet tbou wbat argument
Ubp Itte to tbM netlbbor'e cree bad lent.
                                 -E-ME RSONN.
 4

 


            CONTENTS.


                                     PAGF.
               CT1APTE1R I.
TIiF; RABBI'S PROTpound;(GEt.........     .  7

               CHAPTEIR HI.
ON To CHATTANOOGA...... ..       .     23

               CHAPTER III.
TiE SUNRISE SERVICE ON "LOOKOUT," .43

               CHAPTER IV.
AN IEPwORTH JEw......... .. .. . ..  . 65

               CHAPTER V.
"TRUST,"..... . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. 86

               CHAPTER VI.
Two TURNINGS IN BETHANV'S LANE....... . 105

              CHAPTER VII.
JUDGE HALLAMI'S DAUGHTER, STENOGRAPHER, . - 115

              CHAPTER VIII.
A KINDLING INTEREST........... .. .  . 130
                                   5

 


CONTENTS.



                                       PAo E.
               CHAPTER IX.
A JUNIOR TAKES IT IN HAND ........ .   . .145

               CHAPTER X.
TIE DEACONESS'S STORY.....              1...... . . 163

               CHAPTE R XI.



" YOM KIPPUR ,".. . . . . . . .



..  . i86



               CHAPTER XII.
DR. TRENT.. . .. .. . .. .. .. . ..  .. 189

              CHAPTER XIII.



A LITTLE PRODIGAL ........



. 220



              CHAPTER XIV.
IIERZENRULIE.



.241



               CIIAPTE'R XV.
ON CHRISTMAS EVE, .. ..... .......... 26i

              CHAPTER XVI.
A "WATCH-NIGHT" CONSECRATION_,  . . - . . .275



SILENT KEYS ............



6



. 297

 

  IN LEAGUE WITH ISRAEL.



               CHAPTER I.

          THE RABBI'S PROTEGE.

          T was growing dark in the library,
          but the old rabbi took no notice of
          the fact.  As the June twilight
          deepened, he unconsciously bent
nearer the great volume on the table before him,
till his white beard lay on the open page.
   lie was reading aloud in Ifebrew, and his
deep voice filled the roomn with its musical in-
tonations: "Praise hin, ye heavens of heavens,
and ye waters that be above the heavens."
   He raised his head and glanced out toward
the weestern sky. A star or twvo twvinkled through
the fading afterglow. Piushing the hook aside,
he walked to the open window and looked ulp.
   There was a noise of ehildren playing on the
pavement below, and the rumbling of an electric
                                      7

 

IN LEAGUE WITH ISRAEL.



car in the next street. A whiff from a passing
cigar floated up to him, and the shrill whistle of
a newsboy with the evening paper.
   But Abraham at the door of his tent, Moses
ill the Midian desert, Elijah by the brook
Cherith, were no more apart from the world
than this old rabbi at this moment.
   He saw only the star. lie heard only the in-
ward voice of adoration, as lie stood in silent com-
munion with the God of his fathers.
   His strong, rugged features and white beard
suggested the line of patriarchs so forcibly, that
had a robe and sandals been substituted for the
broadcloth suit he wore, the likeness would have
been complete.
   He stoodl there a long time, with his lips
moving silently; then suddenly, as if his tin-
spoken homage demanded voice, he caught up
his violin. Forty years of companionship had
made it a part of himself.
   The depth of his being that could find no
expression in words, poured itself out in the
passionately reverent tones of his violin.
   In such exalted moods as this it was no
earthly instrument of music. It became to him
a veritable Jacob's ladder, on which he heard



8

 

THE RABBI'S PROTEGE.



the voices of the angels ascending and descend-
ing, and on. whose trembling rounds he climbed
to touch the Infinite.
   There was a quick step on the stairs, and a
heavy tread along the uipper ball. Then the
portiere was pushed aside an(l a voice of the
world brought the rhapsody to a close.
   "Where are you, Uncle Ezra It is too
dark to see, but your fiddle says that you are at
home."
   "At, David, my boy, come in and strike
a light. I wvondered why you were so late."
   "I was out on my wheel," answered the
young man. "Cycling is warm work this time
of year."
   lIe lighted the gas and threw himself lazily
down amnong the pile of cushions on the couch.
   "I had a letter from Marta to-day."
   "And wvhat does the little sister have to say"
answered the rabbi, noticing a frown deepening
on David's forehead. "I suppose her vacation
lias commenced, and she will soon be on her way
home again."
   "No," answered David, with a still deeper
frowvn. "She has changed all her plans, and
wants me to change mine, just to suit the Her-



9

 

10     IN LEAGUE WITH ISRAEL.



rick family. She has gone to Chattanooga with
them, and they are up on Lookout Mountain.
She wants me to meet her there and spend part
of the summer with her. She grows more in-
fatuated with Frances Jierrick every day. You
know they have been inseparable friends since
they first started to kindergarten."
   "Why (did she go down there without con-
sulting you" asked the old man impatiently.
"You should be both father and mother to her,
now that neither of your parents is living. I
wish I were really your uncle and hers,
that I might have some authority. You must
be more careful of her, my boy. She should
spend this summer with yoti at home, instead
of with strangers in a hotel."
   "BIut, Uncle Ezra," protested David, (1llick
to excuse the little sister, who was the only one
in the world related to him by family ties, "at
home there is nobody but the housekeeper.
Mrs. Herrick is with the girls now, and the ma-
jor will join them next week. Marta is just like
ofne of the family, and I have encouraged the
intimacy, because I felt that Mrs. Herrick gives
her the motherly care she needs. Besides, Marta
and Frances are so congenial in every way that

 

THE RABBI'S PROTIGE.



they find their greatest happiness together. I
tell them they are as bad as Ruth. and Naomii.
It is a case of 'where thou goest I will go,' etc."
   "Heaven forbid!" exclaimed the rabbi, fer-
vently. "Do you remember that the rest of that
declaration is, 'Thy people shall be my people,
and thy God my God' David, my son, I tell
you there is great danger of the child's being led
away from the faith.  Your father and hers
was my dearest friend. I have loved you chil-
diren like my own. You must heed my warn-
ing, and discourage such intimacy with a Gentile
family, especially wvhen it includes such an agree-
able member as that young Albert Ierrick."
   "Why, he is only a boy, Uncle Ezra."
   "Yes, but he is older than Marta, and they
are thrown constantly together."
   David looked down at the carpet, and began
absently tracing a pattern with his foot. Ile
was thinking of the little sixteen-year-old sis-
ter. The seven years' difference in their ages
gave him a fatherly feeling for her. He could
not bear the thought of interfering seriously
with her pleasure, yet he could not ignore the
old man's warning.
   Rabbi Barthold had been his tutor in both



1 1

 

12     IN LEAGUE WITH ISRAEL.



languages and music. Aside from a few years
rt college, all that he knew had been learned
under the old man's wise supervision.
   "Ezra, my friend," said the elder David,
when le lay dying, "take my child and make
him a man after your own pattern. I know
your noble soul. Give his the same strength
and sweetness. We are so greedy for the flesh-
pots of Egypt, that we forget to satisfy the soul
hunger. But you 'will teach the little fellow
higher things."
   Later, when the end had almost come, his
hand groped out feebly towards the child, who
had been brought to his bedside.
   "Never mind about the shekels, little
David," lie said in a hoarse, broken whisper.
"BIut clean bands and a pure heart-that 's all
that counts when you 're in your coffin."
   The child's eyes grew wide with wonder
as a paroxysm of pain contracted the beloved
face. He was led quickly away, but those words
were never forgotten.
   The rabbi was thinking of them now as lie
studied the handsome features of the young fel-
low before him.
   It was a strong face, but refinement and

 

THE RABBI'S PROTEGE.



gentleness showed in every line.  There was
something so boyish and frank, also, in its ex-
pression, that a tender smile moved the rabbi'b
lips. "Clean hands and a pure heart," he said
fondly to himself. "He has them. Ah, ml-y
David, if thou couldst but see how thy little
one has grown, not only in stature, but in soul-
life, in ideals, thou would'st be satisfied."
    "Well," he said aloud, as the young man
left his seat and began to walk up and down
the room with his hands in his pockets, "what
are you going to do"
    "I scarcely know," was the hesitating an-
swer. "It would not be wise to send for Marta
to come home, for the reason you suggest, and
I have no other t, offer her."
    "Then go to her!" the rabbi exclaimed.
"You need not tell her that you have any fear
of her being influenced by Gentile society-
but never for a moment let her forget that she
Js a Jewess.  Kindle her pride in her race.
Teach her loyalty to her people, and love for
all that is Hebrewv."
    "But my Hudson Bay trip " David sug-
gested.
    "That can wvait. The Tennessee mountains



13

 

14     IN LEAGUE WITH ISRAEL.



will give you as good a summer outing as you
need, and you can play guardian angel for
Marta while you take it."
   David laughed, and took another turn
across the room. Then he paused beside the
table, and picked up a newspaper.
   "I wonder what connections the trains make
now," he said. "There used to be a long wait
at a dismal old junction." He glanced hastily
over the time-table.
   "Why, look here!" he exclaimed. "Here
is a cheap excursion to Chattanooga this next
week. I could afford to run down and see
Marta, anyhow. Maybe I could persuade her
to come back with me, if I promised to take her
to Hudson Bay with me."
   "What kind of an excursion" asked the
rabbi.
   "Epwvorth League, it says here, whatever
that mav be. It seems to be some sort of an
international convention, and says to apply to
Frank P. Malion for particulars."
   "Marion," repeated the rabbi, thoughtfully.
"O, then it is a Methodist affair. He is not only
the head and shoulders of that big Church on
Garrison Avenue, but hands and feet as well,

 

THE RABBI'S PROTEGE.



judging by the way he works for it. I wish my
congregation would take a few lessons front
I1ii .'
   'Is lie viery tall, witli a short, browvn beard,
and blue eyes, and a habit of shaking hands
with everybody " asked David.  "I believe
1 know the man. I met him on the cars last
fall. le 's lively company. I 've a notion to
hunt him up, and find what 's going on."
   "Telephone out to Hillhollow that you will
not be at home to-night," said the rabbi, "and
stay in the city with me. If you conclude to
go to Chattanooga next week, I have much to
say to you before taking leave of you for the
summer."
   "Very well," consented David. "I '11 go
(lown town immeldiately, and see if I can find this
AMr. Marion.  What is his business, do you
know "
   "A wholesale shoe merchant, I believe. lie
is in that big new building next to Cohen's
furniture-store, on Duke Street. But you 'll
not find him Wednesday night. They have
Church in the middle of the week, and he is
one of the few Christians whose life is as loud as
his profession."



15

 

16     IN LEAGUE WITH ISRAEL.



   David smiled a little bitterly. "Then I
shall certainly cultivate his acquaintance for
the purpose of studying sali a rara avis. It
has never been my lot to know a Christian who
measured up to his creed."
   "Do not grow cynical, my lad," answered the
old man, gently. "I have made you a dreamer
like myself. I have kept you in an atmosphere
of high ideals. I have led you into the compan-
ionship of all that was heroic in the past, and
held you apart as much as possible from the
sordid selfishness of the age. 0, I grow sick
at heart sometimes when I stroll through the
great centers of trade, watching the fierce strug-
gle of humanity as they snatch the bread from
other mouths to feed their own.
   "You remember our Hebrewv word for teach
eomes from tooth, and means to make sharp like
a tooth. Sometimes I think that primitive idea
has become the popiflar view of e(dcation in
this day. Anything that will fit a man to bite
and eut his way through this hungry wolf-pack
is what is sought after, no matter howr manvof his
kind are trampled under foot in the struggle.
T am almost afraid for you to step down from
the place where I have kept you. When you

 

THE; RABBI'S PROTEGE.



are thrown with men who care for nothing but
material things, who would barter not only their
birthrights but their souls for a mess of pottage,
I aml afraid you will lose faith in humanity."
   "That is quite likely, Uncle Ezra."
   "Aye, but 1 would not have it so, David.
Theworld is certainlygrowing a little less savage,
and in every nature smolders some spark, how-
ever small, of the eternal good. N-o matter how
we have fallen, wve still bear the imprint of the
Creator, in whose likeness we were first fash-
ioned."
   Rabbi Barthold bad been right in calling
himself a dreamer. The ability to live apart
from  his surroundings, had beeni his greatest
cormfort. Because of it, the rigor of extreme
poverty that surrounded his early life had not
touched his heart with its baneful chill. He had
gone through the wvorld a happy optimist.
   He had been trained according to the most
strictlv orthodox system of Judaism. But even
its severe pressure had failed to confine him to
the limits of such a narrow mold.
   HIe was still a dreamer. In the newv world
he had cast aside the shackles of tradition for
the larger liberty of the Reformed Jew.
                      2



17

 

18     IN LEAGUE WITH ISRA9L.



   Now in his serene old age, surrounded by
luxuries, he still lived apart in a world of music
andl literature.
   Hlis congregation, broken loose from the old
moorings, drifted dangerously away towards
radicalism, but lie stood firm in the belief that
the 'chosen people" would finally triumph over
all error, and found much comfort in the
thought.
   David took out his watch. "It is after eight
o'clock," be said. "Probably if I walk down
Garrison Avenue, I may meet Mr. Marion com-
ing from Church. I 'll be back soon."
   People were beginning to file out of the side
entrance that led to the prayer-meeting room.
by the time he reached the church.
   "Is Mir. Frank Marion in here" he asked of
the colored janitor, who was stanling in the
doorway.
   "Yes, sah !" was the emphatic response. "He
sut'n'y is, sab! He am alwvays the fust to come,
an' the last to depaht."
   "'"hby, good evening, Mr. Herschel," ex-
claimed a pleasant voice.
   David turned quickly to lift his hat. An
elderly lady wvas coming down the steps with

 
THE RABBI'S PROTIEGE.



two young girls. She caine up to hin with a
smile, and held out her hand.
   "I have not seen you since you came back
from  college," she said, cordially; "but I never
lose my interest in any of Rob's playmates."
   "Thank you, Mrs. Bond," lie replied, wvith
his hat still in his hand.
   As she passed on, a swift rush of recollection
lbrouglit back the big attic wvlhere lie had passed
many a rainy day with Rob Bond. Ile recalled
wvith something of the old boyish pleasure a cer-
tain jar on their pantry shelf, whlere the mIost de-
licious ginger-snaps were always to be found.
   But the next moment the sm-nile left his lips,
as an exclamation of oiie of the girls was car-
ried l)ack to hiim. It was made in an under-
tone, but the still evening air transmitted it
wvith startling distinctness.
   "Why, -Auntie, lie 's a Jewv!    I did( n't
think you xvo111(l shale bands wvith a ,Jew!"'
   I-He could not hear Mrs. Bond's reply.  lie
lrewv himself up haughlitily. Tlhen time in(lignant
flash died out of lis eves. After all, why should
lie, wvith the plrincely 10loo0( of Israel in his veins,
care for the callow prejudices of a little school-
girl



19

 

20     IN LEAGUE WITH ISRAEL.



   A crowd of people passed out, laughing and
talking. Then lie saxv Mr. Marion cone into
the vestibule with. several boys, just as the jan-
itor began to extinguish the lights.
   lie turned to David wvith a hearty smile
and a strong band-clasp, recognizing him in-
stantly.
   "How   are you, brother" he asked. lIe
spoke with a slight Southern accent. Somehow,
David felt forcibly that it was not merely as a
tiatter of habit that Frank Marion called him
brother. Such a warm, personal interest seemed
to speak through the friendly blue eyes looking
so honestly into his own, that lie xvas half-way
persuaded to go to Chattanooga wvith him before
a vor(l had been said on the subject. They
walked several blocks together up the avenue,
discussing the excursion.  Then MNr. Marion
stopped at the gate of an old-fashioned resi-
dence, built some distance back from the street.
   "I have a message to deliver to Miss Hallam,
a cousin of mine," lie said. "Tf von will wait
a moment, I '11 go with vou over to the office."
   The front dloor stood open, and the hall-lamp
sent a flood of yellow light streaming out into
the warm, June darkness.

 

THI RABBI'S PROTEGE .



   In response to Air. Marion's knock, there
was a flutter of a white dress in the hall, and the
next instant the massive old doorway framed a
plicture that the young Jexv iiever forgot. It
was Bethany Ilallam. The light seemed to make
a halo of her golden hair, and to illuminate
her dress and the sweet uptLlrned face with such
an ethereal vlhiteness that David was reminded
of a Psyche in Parian marble.
   "Who is she" lie exclaimed, as ifr. AMarion
rejoined him. "One never sees a face like that
outside of some artist's concel)tion.  It is too
spirituelle for this l)lanet, but too sad for any
other."
   "Shle is Judge Ialalam's daughter," -Mr.
Marion res1Jonde(1.  "Ile (lied last fall, and
t)ethanv is grievint lherself to death. I have at
last persuaded her to go to Clhattanooga wvith
us. She nee(ls to have her thoughts turned into
another elaannel, and I hope this trip wvill ae-
complish that purpose."
   "I knew the Judge," said David. "I met
hin a number of times after I Nvas admitted
to the bar."
   "O, T did1 n't know you wvere a lawyer," said
Mr. Mfarion.



21

 

22       IN LEAGUE WITH ISRAEL.

   "Yes, I expect to begin practicing here after
vacation," he answered.
   "Well, I am going to begin my practice
right now," said Mr. Marion, laughing, "and
plead my case to such purpose that you will be
persuaded to take this Chattanooga trip."  le
slipped his arm through David's, and drew him
around the corner toward his store.

 
CHAPTER II.



          ",ON TO CHATTANOOGA."

          - T -,as within three minutes of time
          for the south-bound train to start
          when David Herschel swung him-
          self on the platform  of the Chat-
tanooga special. As lie settled himself comfort-
ably in the first vacant seat, Mr. Mlarion hurried
past him (lown the aisle with. a valise in each
hand.  Hle was followved by two ladies. The
first one seemed to knowv every one in the ear,
judging b) the smiles and friendly voices that
greeted her a)earallce.
   "O, we were so afraid vou were not coming,
Mrs. Marion," cried an imnpuilsive young girl,
just in front of David. "It would have been
such a (lisajppoittment. Ts n't she jist the dear-
est thing in the wvorld" she rattled on to her eomii-
panion, as M\Nrs. Marion passed out of hearing
   "Well, if she has n't got Blethanv Hallam
wvith her! Of all people to go on an excursion,
it seems to me she would be the very last."
                                       23

 

24     IN LEAGUE WITH ISRAEL.



   "Why" asked the other girl. As that was
the question uppermost in David's mind, lie
listened with interest for the answer.
   '"0, she seems so different from other people.
Her father always used to treat her as if she
were made of a little finer clay than ordinary
mortals. When she traveled, it was always in
a private car. When she wvent to lectures or
concerts, they always had the best seats in the
house. All her teachers taught her at home ex-
cept one. Site went to the conservatory for her
drawing lessons, lout a maid came with her in the
morningr and her father drove by for her at
noon."
   As lie listened, David's eves had followed
the tall, graceful girl who wvas now seating her-
self by -Mrs. -Marion.
   Every movement, as Qvell as every detail of
her traveling dress, impressed him with a sense
of her refinement and cnlture. Ile noticed that
she was all in black.  AN thin veil drawn over
her face partially coneealed its delicate pallor;
but her soft, light hair, drawn up under the little
black hat she wore, seemed sunnier than ever
by contrast.
   "Tsni't she beauitiful " sighed David's talk-

 

ON TO CHATTANOOGA.



ative neighbor. "I used to wish I could change
places with her, especially the year when she
went abroad to study art; but I would n't nowv
for anything in the world."
   "Why" asked her companion again, and
David mentally echoed her interrogation.
   "O, because her father is dead now, and
everything is so different. Something happened
to their property, so thlere 's nothing left but the
old home. Then her little brother had such a
dreadful fall just after the Judge's death.
They thought lie 'would die, too, or be a cripple
all his life; but I believe lie 's better nowv.
He is sort of paralyzed, so lie has to stay
in a wheel-clhair; but the doctor says lie is grad-
ually getting over thlat, and will be all right
after awlile. It's a very peculiar case, I 'ye
lheard. Thlere have only been a few like it. She
is studying stenography nowv, so that she can
keep on living in the old home and take care
of little Jack."
   '"Do von know her" interrupl)ted the inter-
ested listener.
   "No, not very well. I 'ye always seen lher
in Church; you know Judge Itallam wvas one of
our best paying members, and rarely missed a



25

 

26     IN LHAGUE WITH ISRAE;L.



Sabbath morning service. But they were very
exclusive socially. My easel stood next to hers
in the art conservatory one term, and we talked
about our work sometimes. She used to remind
me of Sir Christopher in 'Tales of a Wayside
Inn.' Do n't vou remeiniber She had that

             'Way of saying things
     That made one think of courts enud kings,
       And lords and ladies of high degree,
     So that not having been at court
     Seemed something very little short
       Of treason or lese-majesty,
       Such an accomplished knight was he.'"

   Both girls laughed, and then the lively
chatter was drowned by the jarring rumble of
the train as it puffed slowly out of the depot.
   "Any one would know this is a Methodist
crowd," said Mrs. Mlarion laughingly, as a dozen
happy young voices began to sing an old revival
hymn, and it was caught utp all over the car.
   "That reminds me," said her husband, reach-
ing into his coat poelket, "I have somnething
here that will prevent anY mistake if doubt
should arise."
   He drew out Pr little box of ribbon badges
and a paper of pins. "Here," lie saidi, "put one

 

ON TO CHATTANOOGA.



on, Ray; we must all show our colors this week.
You, too, Bethany."
   "0 no, Cousin Frank," she protested. "1
am not a member of the League."
   "That makes no difference," be answered,
in his hearty, persistent way. "You ought to
be one, and you twill be by the time you get
back fromn this conference."
   "But, Cousin Frank, I never wore a badge
in my life," she insisted. "I have always had
the greatest antipathy to such things. It makes
one so conspicuous to be branded in that -way."
   He held out the little white ribbon, threaded
with scarlet, and bearing the imprint of the iMal-
tese cross. The light, jesting tone was gone.
le wvas so deeply in earnest that it made her feel
uncomfortable.
   "Do von know what the colors mean, Beth-
any" Then he paused reverently. "The purity
and the blood! Surely, you can not refuse to
vear those."
   lie laid the little badge in her lap, and passed
(lown the aisle, distributing the others right and
left.
   She looked at it in silence a moment, and
then pinned it on the lapel of her traveling coat.



27

 

28     IN LEAGUE WITH ISRAEL.



   "Cousin Ray, did you ever know another
such persistent manl " she asked. "How is it
that he can always make people go in exactly
the opposite way from the one they had in-
tended When he first planned for me to comne
on this excursion, I thought it was the most
preposterous idea I ever heard of. But he put
aside every objection, and overruled every ar-
gument I could make. I did not want to come
at all, but le planned his campaign like a gen-
eral, and I had to surrender."
   "Tell me how    he managed," said Mrs.
Marion. "You know I did not get home from
Chicago until yesterday morning, and I have
been too busy getting ready to come on this
excursion to ask him anything."
   "When he had urged all the reasons he
could think of for my going, but without suc-
cess, he attacked me in my only vulnerable spot,
little Jack. The child has considered Cousin
Frank's word law and gospel ever since he joined
the Junior league. So, when he was told that
my health would be benefited by the trip, and
it would arouse me from the despondent, low-
spirited state T had( fallen into, he gave me no
rest until T promised to go. Jaek showed gen-

 

ON TO CHATTANOOGA.



eralship, too. lie waited until the night of
his birthday. I had promised him a little party,
but he was so mnuch worse that day, it had to
be postponed. I was so sorry for him that I
could have promised him almost anything. The
little rascal knew it, too. While I was helping
himn undress, lie put his arms around my neck,
and began to beg me to go. Ile told me that he
had been praying that I might change my mind.
Ever since lie has been in the League lie has
seenmed to get so inuch. comfort out of the belief
that his iravers are always answered that I
could n't bear to shake his faith. So I promised
him."
   "The dear little John Wesley," said Mrs.
Marion; "you ought to give him the full benefit
of his name, Bethany."
   "Manima did intend to, but papa said it was
as much too big for him as the huge old-
fashioned silver watch that Grandfather Brad-
ford left him. He suggested that both be laid
away until he grew up to fit them."
   "Who is taking care of him in your ab-
sence" was the next question.
   "O, he and Cousin Frank arranged that, too.
They sent for his old nurse.  She came last



29

 

30     IN LEAGUE WITH ISRAEL.



night with her little nine-year-old grandson.
Just Jack's age, you see; so he will have some-
body to make the timhe pass very quickly."
   Mrs. Marion stopped her with an exclama-
tion of surprise. "Well, I wish you 'd look at
Frank! What will he do next He is actually
pinning an Epworth League badge on that
young Jew!"
   Bethany turned her head a little to look.
"What a fine face he has!" she remarked. "It
is almost handsome. He must feel very much
out of place among such an aggressive set of
Christians. I wonder what he thinks of all these
songs"
   Air. Marion came back smiling. As super-
intendent of both Sunday-school and Junior
League, he had won the love of every one con-
nected with them. His passage through the
ca:, as lie distributed the badges, was attended
by many laughing remarks and warm    hand-
Clasps.
   There was a happy twinkle in his eyes when
he stopped beside his wife's seat. She smiled up
at him as lie towered above her, and motioned
him to take the seat in front of them.
   "I 'm not going to stay," he said. "I want

 

ON TO CHATTANOOGA.



to bring a young man up here, and introduce
him to you. lie 's having a pretty lonesome
tilme, I 'in afraid."
   "It must be that Jew," remarked Mrs.
Marion. "I know every one else on the car.
I do n't see that wye are called on to entertain
hilt, Frank. Ile came with us, simply to take
advantage of the excursion rates. I should think
lie would prefer to be let alone. Ile must have
thought it presumptuous in you to pin that badge
on hinm. What did he say when you did it"
   Mr. Marion bent down to make himself
heard above the noise of the train.
   "I showed him our motto, 'Look up, lift up,'
and told him if there was any people in the
world who ought to be able to wear such a motto
ws orthily, it was the nation whlose Mloses had
climbed Sinai, and whose tables of stone lifted
up the highest standard of morality known to
the race of Adam."
   Mrs. Marion laughed. "You would make
a fine politician," she exclaimed. "You always
know just the right chord to touch."
   "Cousin Frank," asked Bethany, "how does
it happen you have taken such an intense in-
terest in him "



31

 

32     IN LEAGUE WITH ISRAEL.



   He dropped into the seat facing theirs, and
leaned forward.
   "Well, to begin with, he 's a fine fellow. I
have had several talks with him, and have been
wonderfully impressed with his high ideals and
viewvs of life. But 1 am free to confess, had I
met hinm ten years ago, I could not have seen
any good traits in him at all. I was blinded by
a prejudice that I am unable to account for.
It must have been hereditary, for it has existed
since my earliest recollection, and entirely
without reason, as far as I can see. I some-
how felt that I was justified in hating the Jews.
I had unconsciously acquired the opinion that
they were wholly devoid of the finer sensibilities,
that they were gross in their manner of living,
and petty and mean in business transactions.
I took Fagin and Shylock as fair specimens
of the whole race. It wvas, really, a most un-
accountable hatred I had for them. AIy teeth
would actually clinch if I had to sit next to one
on a street-car. You may think it strange, but
I was not alone in the feeling. I know it to be
a fact that there are hundreds and hundreds
of Church members to-day that have the same
inexplicable antipathy."

 

ON TO CHATTANOOGA.



   Bethany looked up quickly.
    Aly father's reading and training," she
said, "has caused me to have a great admiratio
and respect for Jews in the abstract. I inean.
such as the Old Testament heroes and the Mac-
cabees of a later date. But in the concrete, I
must say I like to have as little intercourse with
them as possible. And as to modern Israelites,
all I know of them personally is the almost
cringing obsequiousness of a few wvealthy mer-
chants with wlhomn I have dealt, and the dirty
swarm of repulsive creatures that infest the
tenement districts.  We used to take a short
cut through those streets sometimes in driving
to the market. Ugh! IL was dreadful!"    She
gave a little shiver of repugnance at the reeol-
lection.
   "Yes, I know," lie answered. "1 had that
same feeling the greater part of my life. But
ten years ago I spent a summer at Chautatuquai,
studying the four Gospels. It opened my eves,
Bethany. I got a clearer view of the Christ
than I ever had before. I saw how I had been
misrepresenting him to the world. The ineon-
sisteneies of my life seemed like the lanterns
the pirates used to hang on the dangerous cliffs