PADUTCH-LIFE-L Archives

From: "Vee L. Housman" <>
Subject: 43-The Pastor's Visit
Date: Mon, 07 Sep 1998 12:10:29 -0400

THE PASTOR’S VISIT

I'm finished butchering already. Butcher day went by so
quietly that hardly anyone took much note of it--not even the pigs.
They were in such bad shape that slaughtering didn't make much
difference to them.

The preacher found out about us butchering, so he came over
directly to visit. He comes to visit us every butcher day, and he
always has a pretty good idea when our pantry is filled. I like
preachers. They tell a man exactly how he stands with the Lord and
charge nothing, whereas a lawyer would charge at least five dollars.

Well, our pastor visited on the evening after we butchered. He
asked me if I would care to be on the side of the virtuous army
which will do combat with the devil. I told him I'd like that, but I
explained that I was already a prisoner of Hullahecka. He told me
that I was weak and that I wouldn't be among them on the Big Day
when the sheep were to be counted. I told him I knew that I was
weak, but if he had recent chills as badly as I, he'd be weak too. So
far as me not being counted with the sheep, I told him it really didn't
matter to me as long as it wouldn't be too cold or too hot, since my
clothing wasn't fit for having a tail to hold in the air.

And so we knocked around evangelism until Polly had supper
ready. We had one large piece of sausage which Polly had cut up
for the preacher. We had just settled down to eat supper when the
pastor said:

"Brother Boonastiel, free yourself!"

Now, I already considered myself to be free. We had nearly
everything laid out on the supper table, and I had told him several
times that I couldn't pray since I'd just had the measles, and anyhow,
I couldn't pray with fresh sausage staring me in the eyes. I coughed,
and Polly rammed her elbow into my ribs.

"Brother Boonastiel, free yourself!"

"Dammit Polly, you pray!"

It slipped from my mouth before I could think about it. I was
so far gone that I didn't feel natural anymore. Then the pastor
prayed a prayer that I'd never heard before in my life. I'd have
given fifteen dollars to be able to offer a prayer like that.

He stayed with us that night, and in the morning he said that
we had a pure house--it was so holy. I felt good when we sat down
to breakfast, because I knew he wouldn't be pleading to "free
yourself.” But just as we were about to sit down he asked for the
bible to read a verse. Now, the fact is, we didn't have a bible, so
taking Polly aside I said I'd talk politics with the old man until she
had a chance to run over to Bixler's to borrow their bible. Polly
didn't waste any time and any steps in running the mile to get to
Bixler's and back. She gave the book to the pastor, and when he
opened it I saw the title, “Cattle Husbandry.”

We didn't read any grace. After breakfast I hitched up his
buggy and placed some leftover meat from our butchering into the
rear of the buggy. He looked at me real seriously and said that I
should remain temperate in eating and drinking. I told him there'd
be no trouble with eating at our place so long as Polly was here to
set aside a little meat, and the pastor knew enough to come and haul
it away.

* * *

Note: This collection of Boonastiel stories was written by H. A.
Harter in the original Penna-Dutch dialect and were published in the
Keystone Gazette, Bellefonte, PA, between 1894 and 1904. They
were translated and transcribed by Bob James of Alaska and they
are being posted to this PADUTCH-LIFE mailing list with his
permission.

This thread:

• 43-The Pastor's Visit by "Vee L. Housman" <>