ple of young women were looking
at me and whispering. Then suddenly I became aware that there were
sundry protuberances on my person caused by bread and butter and
doughnuts, and I felt very miserable indeed. Now and then as the elder
spoke the loud, accusing neigh of some horse, tethered to the fence in
the schoolyard, mingled with his thunder. After the good elder had been
preaching an hour his big, fat body seemed to swim in my tears. When he
had finished the choir sang. Their singing was a thing that appealed to
the eye as well as the ear. Uncle Eb used to say it was a great comfort
to see Elkenah Samson sing bass. His great mouth opened widely in this
form of praise and his eyes had a wild stare in them when he aimed at
the low notes.

Ransom Walker, a man of great dignity, with a bristling moustache, who
had once been a schoolmaster, led the choir and carried the tenor part.
It was no small privilege after the elder had announced the hymn, to see
him rise and tap the desk with his tuning fork and hold it to his ear
solemnly. Then he would seem to press his chin full hard upon his throat
while he warbled a scale. Immediately, soprano, alto, bass and tenor
launched forth upon the sea of song. The parts were like the treacherous
and conflicting currents of a tide that tossed them roughly and
sometimes overturned their craft. And Ransom Walker showed always a
proper sense of danger and responsibility. Generally they got to port
safely on these brief excursions, though exhausted. He had a way of
beating time with his head while singing and I have no doubt it was a
great help to him.

The elder came over to me after meeting, having taken my tears for a
sign of conviction.

'May the Lord bless and comfort you, my boy!' said he.

I got away shortly and made for the door. Uncle Eb stopped me.

'My stars, Willie!' said he putting his hand on my upper coat pocket'
'what ye got in there?'

'Doughnuts,' I answered.

'An' what's this?' he asked touching one of my side pockets.

'Doughnuts,' I repeated.

'An' this,' touching another.

'That's doughnuts too,' I said.

'An' this,' he continued going down to my trousers pocket.

'Bread an' butter,' I answered, shamefacedly, and on the verge of tears.

'Jerusalem!' he exclaimed, 'must a 'spected a purty long sermon.

'Brought 'em fer ol' Fred,' I replied.

'Ol' Fred!' he whispered, 'where's he?'

I told my secret then and we both went out with Hope to where we ha