a little mite better
'n they've done lately, that's all I can say! If the Lord is right in
our midst as the Bible says, He can't think much of our singers this
summer!"

"They're improvin', now that Pliny Waterhouse plays his fiddle," Mrs.
Day remarked pacifically. "There was times in the anthem when they kept
together consid'able well last Sunday. They didn't always chord, but
there, they chorded some!--we're most there now, Abby, don't fret!
Cephas won't ring the last bell till he knows his own folks is crossin'
the Common!"

Those were days of conscientious church-going and every pew in the house
was crowded. The pulpit was built on pillars that raised it six feet
higher than the floor; the top was cushioned and covered with red velvet
surmounted by a huge gilt-edged Bible. There was a window in the tower
through which Cephas Cole could look into the church, and while tolling
the bell could keep watch for the minister. Always exactly on time, he
would come in, walk slowly up the right-hand aisle, mount the pulpit
stairs, enter and close the door after him. Then Cephas would give
one tremendous pull to warn loiterers on the steps; a pull that meant,
"Parson's in the pulpit!" and was acted upon accordingly. Opening the
big Bible, the minister raised his right hand impressively, and saying,
"Let us pray," the whole congregation rose in their pews with a great
rustling and bowed their heads devoutly for the invocation.

Next came the hymn, generally at that day one of Isaac Watts's. The
singers, fifteen or twenty in number, sat in a raised gallery opposite
the pulpit, and there was a rod in front hung with red curtains to
hide them when sitting down. Any one was free to join, which perhaps
accounted for Aunt Abby's strictures as to time and tune. Jed Morrill,
"blasphemious" as he was considered by that acrimonious lady, was the
leader, and a good one, too. There would be a great whispering and
buzzing when Deacon Sumner with his big fiddle and Pliny Waterhouse with
his smaller one would try to get in accord with Humphrey Baker and
his clarionet. All went well when Humphrey was there to give the sure
key-note, but in his absence Jed Morrill would use his tuning-fork. When
the key was finally secured by all concerned, Jed would raise his
stick, beat one measure to set the time, and all joined in, or fell in,
according to their several abilities. It was not always a perfect thing
in the way of a start, but they were w