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A CONVERT OF THE MISSION





The largest tent of the Tasajara camp meeting was crowded to its

utmost extent。  The excitement of that dense mass was at its

highest pitch。  The Reverend Stephen Masterton; the single erect;

passionate figure of that confused medley of kneeling worshipers;

had reached the culminating pitch of his irresistible exhortatory

power。  Sighs and groans were beginning to respond to his appeals;

when the reverend brother was seen to lurch heavily forward and

fall to the ground。



At first the effect was that of a part of his performance; the

groans redoubled; and twenty or thirty brethren threw themselves

prostrate in humble imitation of the preacher。  But Sister Deborah

Stokes; perhaps through some special revelation of feminine

intuition; grasped the fallen man; tore loose his black silk

necktie; and dragged him free of the struggling; frantic crowd

whose paroxysms he had just evoked。  Howbeit he was pale and

unconscious; and unable to continue the service。  Even the next

day; when he had slightly recovered; it was found that any attempt

to renew his fervid exhortations produced the same disastrous

result。



A council was hurriedly held by the elders。  In spite of the

energetic protests of Sister Stokes; it was held that the Lord 〃was

wrestlin' with his sperrit;〃 and he was subjected to the same

extraordinary treatment from the whole congregation that he himself

had applied to THEM。  Propped up pale and trembling in the

〃Mourners' Bench〃 by two brethren; he was 〃striven with;〃 exhorted;

prayed over; and admonished; until insensibility mercifully

succeeded convulsions。  Spiritual therapeutics having failed; he

was turned over to the weak and carnal nursing of 〃womenfolk。〃  But

after a month of incapacity he was obliged to yield to 〃the flesh;〃

and; in the local dialect; 〃to use a doctor。〃



It so chanced that the medical practitioner of the district was a

man of large experience; of military training; and plain speech。

When; therefore; he one day found in his surgery a man of rude

Western type; strong…limbed and sunburned; but trembling;

hesitating and neurotic in movement; after listening to his

symptoms gravely; he asked; abruptly: 〃And how much are you

drinking now?〃



〃I am a lifelong abstainer;〃 stammered his patient in quivering

indignation。  But this was followed by another question so frankly

appalling to the hearer that he staggered to his feet。



〃I'm Stephen Mastertonknown of men as a circuit preacher; of the

Northern California district;〃 he thundered〃and an enemy of the

flesh in all its forms。〃



〃I beg your pardon;〃 responded Dr。 Duchesne; grimly; 〃but as you

are suffering from excessive and repeated excitation of the nervous

system; and the depression following prolonged artificial

exaltationit makes little difference whether the cause be

spiritual; as long as there is a certain physical effect upon your

BODYwhich I believe you have brought to me to cure。  Nowas to

diet? you look all wrong there。



〃My food is of the simplestI have no hankering for fleshpots;〃

responded the patient。



〃I suppose you call saleratus bread and salt pork and flapjacks

SIMPLE?〃 said the doctor; coolly; 〃they are COMMON enough; and if

you were working with your muscles instead of your nerves in that

frame of yours they might not hurt you; but you are suffering as

much from eating more than you can digest as the veriest gourmand。

You must stop all that。  Go down to a quiet watering…place for two

months。〃 。 。 。



〃I go to a watering…place?〃 interrupted Masterton; 〃to the haunt of

the idle; the frivolous and wantonnever!〃



〃Well; I'm not particular about a 'watering…place;'〃 said the

doctor; with a shrug; 〃although a little idleness and frivolity

with different food wouldn't hurt youbut you must go somewhere

and change your habits and mode of life COMPLETELY。  I will find

you some sleepy old Spanish town in the southern country where you

can rest and diet。  If this is distasteful to you;〃 he continued;

grimly; 〃you can always call it 'a trial。'〃



Stephen Masterton may have thought it so when; a week later; he

found himself issuing from a rocky gorge into a rough; badly paved;

hilly street; which seemed to be only a continuation of the

mountain road itself。  It broadened suddenly into a square or

plaza; flanked on each side by an irregular row of yellowing adobe

houses; with the inevitable verandaed tienda in each corner; and

the solitary; galleried fonda; with a half…Moorish archway leading

into an inner patio or courtyard in the center。



The whole street stopped as usual at the very door of the Mission

church; a few hundred yards farther on; and under the shadow of the

two belfry towers at each angle of the facade; as if this were the

ultima thule of every traveler。  But all that the eye rested on was

ruined; worn; and crumbling。  The adobe houses were cracked by the

incessant sunshine of the half…year…long summer; or the more

intermittent earthquake shock; the paved courtyard of the fonda was

so uneven and sunken in the center that the lumbering wagon and

faded diligencia stood on an incline; and the mules with difficulty

kept their footing while being unladen; the whitened plaster had

fallen from the feet of the two pillars that flanked the Mission

doorway; like bandages from a gouty limb; leaving the reddish core

of adobe visible; there were apparently as many broken tiles in the

streets and alleys as there were on the heavy red roofs that

everywhere asserted themselvesand even seemed to slide down the

crumbling walls to the ground。  There were hopeless gaps in grille

and grating of doorways and windows; where the iron bars had

dropped helplessly out; or were bent at different angles。  The

walls of the peaceful Mission garden and the warlike presidio were

alike lost in the escalading vines or leveled by the pushing boughs

of gnarled pear and olive trees that now surmounted them。  The dust

lay thick and impalpable in hollow and gutter; and rose in little

vapory clouds with a soft detonation at every stroke of his horse's

hoofs。  Over all this dust and ruin; idleness seemed to reign

supreme。  From the velvet…jacketed figures lounging motionless in

the shadows of the open doorwaysso motionless that only the lazy

drift of cigarette smoke betokened their breathingto the

reclining peons in the shade of a catalpa; or the squatting Indians

in the arroyoall was sloth and dirt。



The Rev。 Stephen Masterton felt his throat swell with his old

exhortative indignation。  A gaudy yellow fan waved languidly in

front of a black rose…crested head at a white…curtained window。  He

knew he was stifling with righteous wrath; and clapped his spurs to

his horse。



Nevertheless; in a few days; by the aid of a letter to the

innkeeper; he was installed in a dilapidated adobe house; not

unlike those he had seen; but situated in the outskirts and

overlooking the garden and part of the refectory of the old

Mission。  It had even a small garden of its ownif a strip of hot

wall; overburdened with yellow and white roses; a dozen straggling

callas; a bank of heliotrope; and an almond tree could be called a

garden。  It had an open doorway; but so heavily recessed in the

thick walls that it preserved seclusion; a sitting…room; and an

alcoved bedroom with deep embrasured windows that however excluded

the unwinking sunlight and kept an even monotone of shade。



Strange to say; he found it cool; restful; and; in spite of the

dust; absolutely clean; and; but for the scent of heliotrope;

entirely inodorous。  The dry air seemed to dissipate all noxious

emanations and decaythe very dust itself in its fine

impalpability was volatile with a spicelike piquancy; and left no

stain。



A wrinkled Indian woman; brown and veined like a tobacco leaf;

ministered to his simple wants。  But these wants had also been

regulated by Dr。 Duchesne。  He found himself; with some grave

doubts of his effeminacy; breakfasting on a single cup of chocolate

instead of his usual bowl of molasses…sweetened coffee; crumbling a

crisp tortilla instead of the heavy saleratus bread; greasy

flapjack; or the lard…fried steak; and; more wonderful still;

completing his repast with purple grapes from the Mission wall。  He

could not deny that it was simplethat it was even refreshing and

consistent with the climate and his surroundings。  On the other

hand; it was the frugal diet of the commonest peasantand were not

those peons slothful idolaters?



At the end of the weekhis correspondence being also restricted by

his doctor to a few lines to himself regarding his progresshe

wrote to that adviser:



〃The trembling and unquiet has almost ceased; I have less nightly

turmoil and visions; my carnal appetite seems to be amply mollified

and soothed by these viands; whatever may be their ultimate effect

upon the weakness of our common 

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