Man Who Stole A Meeting-House, 
by J. T. Trowbridge 
 
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Title: The Man Who Stole A Meeting-House 1878, From "Coupon 
Bonds" 
Author: J. T. Trowbridge 
Release Date: October 24, 2007 [EBook #23165] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ASCII 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN 
WHO STOLE A MEETING-HOUSE *** 
 
Produced by David Widger 
 
THE MAN WHO STOLE A MEETING-HOUSE 
By J. T. Trowbridge
From "Coupon Bonds." 
Copyright 1878, by James R. Osgood & Co 
On a recent journey to the Pennsylvania oil regions, I stopped one 
evening with a fellow-traveler at a village which had just been thrown 
into a turmoil of excitement by the exploits of a horse-thief. As we sat 
around the tavern hearth, after supper, we heard the particulars of the 
rogue's capture and escape fully discussed; then followed many another 
tale of theft and robbery, told amid curling puffs of tobacco-smoke; 
until, at the close of an exciting story, one of the natives turned to my 
traveling acquaintance, and, with a broad laugh, said, "Kin ye beat that, 
stranger?" 
"Well, I don't know--maybe I could if I should try. I never happened to 
fall in with any such tall horse-stealing as you tell of, but I knew a man 
who stole a meeting-house once." 
"Stole a meetin'-house! That goes a little beyant anything yit," 
remarked another of the honest villagers. "Ye don't mean he stole it and 
carried it away?" 
"Stole it and carried it away," repeated my traveling companion, 
seriously, crossing his legs, and resting his arm on the hack of his chair. 
"And, more than all that, I helped him." 
"How happened that?--for you don't look much like a thief yourself." 
All eyes were now turned upon my friend, a plain New England farmer, 
whose honest homespun appearance and candid speech commanded 
respect. 
"I was his hired man, and I acted under orders. His name was 
Jedwort--Old Jedwort, the boys called him, although he wasn't above 
fifty when the crooked little circumstance happened which I'll make as 
straight a story of as I can, if the company would like to hear it." 
"Sartin, stranger! sartin! about stealin' the meetin'-house!" chimed in 
two or three voices.
My friend cleared his throat, put his hair behind his ears, and with a 
grave, smooth face, but with a merry twinkle in his shrewd gray eye, 
began as follows: 
"Jedwort I said his name was; and I shall never forget how he looked 
one particular morning. He stood leaning on the front gate--or rather on 
the post, for the gate itself was such a shackling concern a child 
couldn't have leaned on't without breaking it down. And Jedwort was 
no child. Think of a stoutish, stooping, duck-legged man, with a 
mountainous back, strongly suggestive of a bag of grist under his shirt, 
and you have him. That imaginary grist had been growing heavier and 
heavier, and he more and more bent under it, for the last fifteen years 
and more, until his head and neck just came forward out from between 
his shoulders like a turtle's from its shell. His arms hung, as he walked, 
almost to the ground. Being curved with the elbows outward, he looked 
for all the world, in a front view, like a waddling interrogation-point 
inclosed in a parenthesis. If man was ever a quadruped, as I've heard 
some folks tell, and rose gradually from four legs to two, there must 
have been a time, very early in his history, when he went about like Old 
Jedwort. 
"The gate had been a very good gate in its day. It had even been a 
genteel gate when Jedwort came into possession of the place by 
marrying his wife, who inherited it from her uncle. That was some 
twenty years before, and everything had been going to rack and ruin 
ever since. 
"Jedwort himself had been going to rack and ruin, morally speaking. 
He was a middling decent sort of man when I first knew him; and I 
judge there must have been something about him more than common, 
or he never could have got such a wife. But then women do marry, 
sometimes, unaccountably. I've known downright ugly and 
disagreeable fellows to work around, till by and by they would get a 
pretty girl fascinated by something in them which nobody else could 
see, and then marry her in spite of everything;--just as you may have 
seen a magnetizer on the stage make his subjects do    
    
		
	
	
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