Thirty-Eight, Proposition

Thirty-Eight

Proposition

11 June 1824

After the Terrys' visit and then departure the other day, I fell into a deep sleep that afternoon, and I awoke in barely enough time to walk to the Wednesday night meeting.  I arrived only a minute or two late, but late enough to receive a gentle, and yet somewhat stern admonition that timeliness was important.  But Sarah Terry's smile to me was genuinely warm, and I felt nonetheless welcome.

The hymns and scripture lessons of that evening fade in my memory in comparison to what else transpired.  For in addition to looking forward to my new friendship with Sarah Terry, Mr. John DuBois was again in our midst.

Mr. DuBois' enthusiasm for the spiritual nature of our gathering gives me pause.  I find myself amused at the emphatic earnestness at which he pursues his praying and scripture lessons.  I cannot say that he is naive in his faith; he truly appears to understand something that I do not.  Indeed, I suspect that he can teach me a thing or two.  But he lacks the subtlety that would more effectively lead me to his way of believing.

His tenor voice, though, had the unmistakable mark of training; his is the voice that arises above others not because of volume, but because it is so true, and because of his phrasing, diction, and breath control.  I do not believe that he comes to this type of singing completely naturally; I suspect that he has had lessons somewhere along the line.  Where his enthusiasm for written and spoken word is emphatic, his singing takes on a sweet, almost reverential quality that allows you in to his soul just a little.  I found myself listening to him sing, and enjoying the experience.

After the meeting was over, Mr. DuBois said a word or two to Mr. Houck just out of my hearing, and then he came over to me.  He said that he understood that my sister was staying at my uncle's for a while, but that I was still at home.  He said that he was glad to see me there.  He then wondered if perhaps I had received the part of the Wordsworth poem that he had copied for me?  I told him, yes, I did, and for that I was most appreciative.  I wondered, however, how it was that he was back from Mobile so soon, as I had expected that he might be absent for more than a month.

Mr. DuBois then asked if he could make his explanation while bringing me home, and I agreed, not realizing immediately that we would not be joined by Mr. Houck, nor, for that matter, anyone else.

Thus it was that Mr. DuBois and I walked alone, along the shorter river path rather than along the road.

Mr. DuBois then told me that he was traveling to Mobile by boat, and that three days into the journey, they were beset by storms, the likes of which caused them to seek shelter as best they could on the river bank with the boat turned on its side as a slight protection from the winds that followed.  He says that they were pelted by rain and hail and winds that he does not remember ever before except once. 

Here, he paused for a moment, before quietly telling me that the other time he had encountered such weather, it was during a boat outing that did not end well.  He told me that several boats of young people were destined for a camp-meeting in Charleston, some leaving in the morning, when a gale blew in.  He said that when his own boat left in the afternoon, when it was calm, they came upon the earlier boats, one of which had sunk, the other of which was overturned.  He told me, very somberly, that of those who had attempted to swim ashore, only his friend, Mr. Houck, had survived.

We walked in silence for a short while before Mr. DuBois resumed his account.  He said that the storm on the way to Mobile caused damage to his boat which took a day to repair, and that the decision was then made to turn back to Vernon where better repairs could be made.  He thus stayed in Vernon for a few days, then deciding to delay his trip for some other time.  He had further business to conduct at Washington Landing before returning to the Terry property where he has been since Monday.

I asked about Mr. Houck, as I have not seen my sister in some time and have had no other account.  I did not really want to know, but I considered it to be polite conversation.  Mr. DuBois did not answer, but turned to me, suddenly asking if he might see more regularly.   I took some time to consider my answer, for, truthfully, I questioned my own motives in wanting very much to say yes.  For I find myself very much wanting to know Mr. DuBois better, but I am not knowing exactly why this is. 

I said, simply, yes.