little church in the hollow opposite the schoolhouse came in sight
as they emerged from the woods at Sandy McLachlan's gate. It was a
straight, clapboard structure, painted white, and standing in a
forlorn-looking little field bare of trees. At one side stretched a
long shed; at the other a grass-grown graveyard with leaning
headstones. Inside there were also evidences that beauty had been
sacrificed to economy in the building of Forest Glen Church. It was
severely plain, with bare white walls, and a flat and smoky ceiling.
There was a big oblong stove, the same shape as the church, at the end
near the door, and a little organ and a pulpit-table on a small
platform at the other end.

The only attempt at decoration was a big bunch of cherry blossoms
someone had placed upon the organ, and four mottoes, worked in colored
wools and framed in Lake Simcoe shells, which hung upon the walls.

Sunday school was held during the hour before the church service, the
two congregations being very much alike. For an ideal state of affairs
prevailed in Forest Glen. People did not send their children to Sunday
school; they took them. Noah Clegg was the superintendent, and old
Sandy McLachlan assistant. Noah operated at the end where the platform
stood, while Sandy officiated at the door, ushering in the pupils, and
often during the session, calling out instructions to Noah from his end
of the building. Sandy's chief duty was to let people into the church
and keep out the dogs, which like the people showed a laudable desire
to attend divine service, especially in the winter. Sandy was armed
with a big stick, and if any canine approached it, woe betide him. He
and Noah Clegg were fast friends, so the double-headed organization
worked well. Besides it was a necessity, for, while the Forest Glen
church and its minister were Presbyterians, the Sunday school had gone
far ahead of the times and was a shining example of what might be
achieved by Church union. Noah Clegg was a Methodist, and Sandy
McLachlan a pillar in the Presbyterian church. Old Silas Pratt, who
was secretary-treasurer, and his daughter who was the organist, were
close-communion Baptists, and there were several Anglicans who taught
classes. All denominations had a voice in the managing of the Sunday
school, but an hour later, when the Rev. Mr. Murray drove out from
Cheemaun, the service took on a decidedly Presbyterian color.

When the buggies from The Dale va