e attention of Sanderson; she waited on him
attentively and unobtrusively as she would have waited on any other
guest at the Squire's table. The Squire and Sanderson retired to the
porch to discuss the purchase of the stock, and Mrs. Bartlett and Anna
set to work to clear away the dishes. Kate excused herself from
assisting, as she had to assume the position as hostess and soon had
the church choir singing in its very best style. Song after song rang
out on the clear summer air. It was a treat not likely to be forgotten
soon by the listeners. All the members of the choir had what is known
as "natural talent," joined to which there was a very fair amount of
cultivation, and the result was music of a most pleasing type, music
that touches the heart--not a mere display Of vocal gymnastics.

Toward the close of the festivities, the sound of wheels was heard, and
the cracked voice of Rube Whipple, the town constable, urging his
ancient nag to greater speed, issued out of the darkness. Rube was
what is known as a "character." He had held the office, which on
account of being associated with him had become a sort of municipal
joke, in the earliest recollections of the oldest inhabitants. He
apparently got no older. For the past fifty years he had looked as if
he had been ready to totter into the grave at any moment, but he took
it out apparently, in attending to other people's funerals instead.
His voice was cracked, he walked with a limp, and his clothes, Hi
Holler said: "was the old suit Noah left in the ark."

The choir had just finished singing "Rock of Ages" as the constable
turned his venerable piece of horseflesh into the front yard.

"Well, well," he said, in a voice like a graphophone badly in need of
repair, "I might have knowed it was the choir kicking up all that
rumpus. Heard the row clear up to the postoffice, and thought I'd come
up to see if anyone was getting murdered."

"Thought you'd be on the spot for once, did you, Rube?" inquired Hi
Holler. "Well, seeing you're here, we might accommodate you, by
getting up a murder, or a row, or something. 'Twould be too bad to
have nothing happen, seeing you are on hand for once."

The choir joined heartily in the laugh on the constable, who waited
till it had subsided and then said:

"Well, what's the matter with jailing all of you for disturbing the
public peace. There's law for it--'disturbin' the public peace with
strange sounds at late and unusual