sing 'good will to men?'" he asked.

Summerman did not look up to answer--did not express any surprise, but the
whole man was in the reply given:

"From the heart, sir. Full, confident, assuring. They owe that to God and
man, or they've no business in a choir."

"Do you suppose they could do it?" asked Mr. Rush, not immediately, but,
as it seemed, when he had controlled the unpleasant influence the
speaker's enthusiastic mode of address had upon him. It seemed as if he
were not merely speaking, and engaging the organist in speech for
pastime--but rather because he could not help it. His questions, when he
asked them, had a more surprising sound to himself than to the person who
answered. And they vexed him--but not Summerman. When Mr. Rush asked him
if he supposed it possible for them to sing in the way signified, he
replied quite confidently:

"Yes, if they only knew what they were about."

"But you explained that to them?"

"Well, then, yes, if they believed it; for after all, belief is of the
heart."

"You don't think they believe it?"

"It's a hard thing to say. But if they did, they would do better. They
are not a happy set altogether. They whine--they talk one thing, and live
another. One of them lost a little money the other day--pretty nearly all
he had, I suppose--but what of that?"

"What of that!" exclaimed Mr. Rush, and he looked at the organist amazed.

"Yes, what of it? The man has his health and his faculties. What's money?"

"What's money!"

"Yes, sir, when you come to the point--what is it? Eyes, hands,
feet--blood, brain, heart, soul? You would think so to hear him talk. It's
dust! I've seen that proved, sir, and I know 'tis true!"

"You don't allow for circumstances," said the stranger, sharply.

"Circumstances!" repeated Summerman, incredulous.

"Yes, the difference between your affairs and those of your neighbors. You
seem to judge others by yourself?"

"My affairs! I haven't any to speak of," said the organist, with a grave
sort of wonder.

"I suppose," replied the stranger, almost angrily, "you are a human
creature; things happen to you, and they do not. If you have any feeling
at all you are affected by what happens." He ceased speaking with the
manner of a man who is annoyed that he should have been so far beguiled
into speech.

"Some things have happened to me," answered Summerman quietly, seeing
everything, pretending to see nothing. "I lived ten years among the
Gipsies.