nce, tall girls
dancing together with the utmost enjoyment; but at four o'clock the band
plays _Dulce Domum_, the captains of twenties count heads and hunt up
stragglers, all gather together in their places, plum buns and tea are
administered till even these thirsty souls can drink no more. Again the
files are marshalled, the banners displayed, and the procession moves
towards the little Forest church, a small, low-walled, high-roofed
building, enclosed by stately beeches, making a sort of outer cathedral
around the little elevation where it stood in its railed-in churchyard.

Two thousand children besides spectators in a building meant for three
hundred! How came it to be devised? There is a consultation among the
clergy. They go from one portion to another of the well-generalled army,
and each division takes up a position on the ground strewn with dry beech
leaves; hassocks and mats are brought to the ladies, a desk set at the
gate, and a chair for the archdeacon; the choristers are brought near,
and the short out-door service is begun.

How glorious and full the responses, 'as the voice of many waters,' and
the chanted Psalms, the beautiful songs of degrees of the 27th of the
month, rise with new fulness and vividness of meaning among the tall
trees and sunlit foliage. One lesson alone is read, in Charlecote
Raymond's fine, powerful voice, and many an eye is filled with tears at
the words, 'One Lord, one Faith, one Baptism, one God and Father of us
all,' as he gazes on the troops on troops of young and old, rich and
poor, strangers and homeborn, all held together in that great unity,
typified by the overshadowing sky, and evidenced by the burst of the
Creed from every voice and every heart.

Then follow the Versicles, the Collects, the Thanksgiving, and the
Blessing, and in a few warm, kind words the archdeacon calls on all to
keep the bond of peace and brotherly love, and bade the strangers bear
home with them the thought of the wonderful works of God. Then--

All people that on earth do dwell,
Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice,

arises from the congregation in all its simple exultant majesty, forcing,
as it were, every voice to break forth into singing unless it be choked
by heart-swelling.

The last note has died away, but there is a sweet hush, as though
lingering still, ere breaking the sense that this is none other than the
gate of heaven.

Rattle and rumble, the vehicles are coming! T