He himself being now the right man in the right place this many years, loving his parishioners, and beloved by them, and occupied from morn till night in good works, recovered the natural cheerfulness of his disposition.To tell the truth, a part of his jocoseness was a blind; he was the greatest peace-maker, except Mr, Harmony in the play, that ever was born.He reconciled more enemies in ten years than his predecessors had done in three hundred; and one of his manoeuvres in the peacemaking art was to make the quarrellers laugh at the cause of quarrel.So did he undermine the demon of discord.But independently of that, he really loved a harmless joke.He was a wonderful tamer of animals, squirrels, bares, fawns, etc.So half in jest a parishioner who had a mule supposed to be possessed with a devil gave it him and said, "Tame this vagabone, parson, if ye can." Well, in about six months, Heaven knows how, he not only tamed Jack, but won his affections to such a degree, that Jack would come running to his whistle like a dog.
One day, having taken shelter from a shower on the stone settle outside a certain public-house, he heard a toper inside, a stranger, boasting he could take more at a draught than any man in Gouda.He instantly marched in and said, "What, lads, do none of ye take him up for the honour of Gouda? Shall it be said that there came hither one from another parish a greater sot than any of us? Nay, then, I your parson do take him up.Go to, I'll find thee a parishioner shall drink more at a draught than thou."A bet was made; Gerard whistled; in clattered Jack - for he was taught to come into a room with the utmost composure - and put his nose into his backer's hand.
"A pair of buckets!" shouted Gerard, "and let us see which of these two sons of asses can drink most at a draught."On another occasion two farmers had a dispute whose hay was the best.Failing to convince each other, they said, "We'll ask parson;" for by this time he was their referee in every mortal thing.
"How lucky you thought of me!" said Gerard, "Why, I have got one staying with me who is the best judge of hay in Holland.Bring me a double handful apiece."So when they came, he had them into the parlour, and put each bundle on a chair.Then he whistled, and in walked Jack.
"Lord a mercy!" said one of the farmers.
"Jack," said the parson, in the tone of conversation, "just tell us which is the best hay of these two."Jack sniffed them both, and made his choice directly, proving his sincerity by eating every morsel.The farmers slapped their thighs, and scratched their heads."To think of we not thinking o'
that," And they each sent Jack a truss.
So Gerard got to be called the merry parson of Gouda.But Margaret, who like most loving women had no more sense of humour than a turtle-dove, took this very ill."What!" said she to herself, "is there nothing sore at the bottom of his heart that he can go about playing the zany?" She could understand pious resignation and content, but not mirth, in true lovers parted.And whilst her woman's nature was perturbed by this gust (and women seem more subject to gusts than men) came that terrible animal, a busybody, to work upon her.Catherine saw she was not happy, and said to her, "Your boy is gone from you.I would not live alone all my days if I were you.""He is more alone than I," sighed Margaret.
"Oh, a man is a man, but a woman is a woman.You must not think all of him and none of yourself.Near is your kirtle, but nearer is your smock.Besides, he is a priest, and can do no better.But you are not a priest.He has got his parish, and his heart is in that.Bethink thee! Time flies; overstay not thy market.Wouldst not like to have three or four more little darlings about thy knee now they have robbed thee of poor little Gerard, and sent him to yon nasty school?" And so she worked upon a mind already irritated.
Margaret had many suitors ready to marry her at a word or even a look, and among them two merchants of the better class, Van Schelt and Oostwagen."Take one of those two," said Catherine.
"Well, I will ask Gerard if I may," said Margaret one day, with a flood of tears; "for I cannot go on the way I am.""Why, you would never be so simple as ask him?""Think you I would be so wicked as marry without his leave?"Accordingly she actually went to Gouda, and after hanging her head, and blushing, and crying, and saying she was miserable, told him his mother wished her to marry one of those two; and if he approved of her marrying at all, would he use his wisdom, and tell her which he thought would be the kindest to the little Gerard of those two; for herself, she did not care what became of her.
Gerard felt as if she had put a soft hand into his body and torn his heart out with it.But the priest with a mighty effort mastered the man.In a voice scarcely audible he declined this responsibility."I am not a saint or a prophet," said he; "I might advise thee ill.I shall read the marriage service for thee,"faltered he; "it is my right.No other would pray for thee as Ishould.But thou must choose for thyself; and oh! let me see thee happy.This four months past thou hast not been happy.""A discontented mind is never happy," said Margaret.
She left him, and he fell on his knees, and prayed for help from above.
Margaret went home pale and agitated."Mother," said she, "never mention it to me again, or we shall quarrel.""He forbade you? Well, more shame for him, that is all.""He forbid me? He did not condescend so far.He was as noble as Iwas paltry.He would not choose for me for fear of choosing me an ill husband.But he would read the service for my groom and me;that was his right.Oh, mother, what a heartless creature I was!""Well, I thought not he had that much sense.""Ah, you go by the poor soul's words, but I rate words as air when the face speaketh to mine eye.I saw the priest and the true lover a-fighting in his dear face, and his cheek pale with the strife, and oh! his poor lip trembled as he said the stout-hearted words -Oh! oh! oh! oh! oh! oh! oh!" And Margaret burst into a violent passion of tears.
