The road to Landisville led past green fields of tobacco and corn,
large farmhouses where old-fashioned flowers made a vivid picture in
the gardens, orchards and woodland tracts, their green shade calling
invitingly. Once they crossed a wandering little creek whose shallow
waters flowed through lovely meadows where boneset plants were white
with bloom and giant eupatorium lifted its rosy heads. A red-headed
flicker flew screaming from a field as they passed, and a fussy wren
scolded at them from a fence corner.
"She'll have a big job," said Uncle Amos, "if she's goin' to scold
every team and automobile that passes here this mornin'. Such a little
thing to be so sassy!"
As they came to Landisville and drove into the big churchyard there
were already many carriages standing in the shade of the long open shed
and numerous automobiles parked in the sunny yard.
A few minutes later they entered the big brick meeting-house and sat
down in the calm of the sanctuary. The whispers of newcomers drifted
through the open windows, steps sounded on the bare floor of the
church, but finally all had entered and quiet fell upon the place.
The simple service of the Mennonite Church is always appealing and
helpful. The music of voices, without any accompaniment of musical
instrument, the simple prayers and sermons, are all devoid of
ostentation or ornamentation. Amanda liked to join in the singing and
did so lustily that morning. But during the sermon she often fell to
dreaming. The quiet meeting-house where only the calm voice of the
preacher was heard invited the building of wonderful castles in Spain.
Their golden spires reared high in the blue of heaven... she would be a
lady in a trailing, silken gown, Martin would come, a plumed and belted
knight, riding on a pure white steed like that in the Sir Galahad
picture at school, and he'd repeat to her those beautiful words, "My
strength is as the strength of ten because my heart is pure." Was there
really any truth in that poem? Could one be strong as ten because the
heart was pure? Of course! It had to be true! Martin could be like
that. He'd lift her to the saddle on the pure white horse and they'd
ride away together to one of those beautiful castles in Spain, high up
on the mountains, so high they seemed above the clouds...
Then she came back to earth suddenly. The meeting was over and Aunt
Rebecca stood ready to take them to her home.
The country roads were filled with carriages and automobiles; the
occupants of the former nodded a cordial how-de-do, though most of them
were strangers, but the riders in the motors sped past without a sign
of friendliness.
"My goodness," said Aunt Rebecca, "since them automobiles is so common
abody don't get many how-de-dos no more as you travel along the country
roads. Used to be everybody'd speak to everybody else they'd meet on
the road--here, Amos," she laid a restraining hand upon the reins.
"Stop once! I see a horseshoe layin' in the road and it's got two nails
in it, too. That's powerful good luck! Stop once and let me get it."