k 
877 
THE DRUM LAKE EASTER SERVICE. 
A story of the Michigan Pine Woods. 
BY HERBERT W. CODLINGWOOD. 
Copyrighted by the Rural New- Yorker. 
(are rights reserved.) 
The minister hardly knew how to take a 
portion of this statement. Never to his cer¬ 
tain knowledge, had he attended a meeting of 
this character. But he 
said nothing: in truth 
he was just a little 
afraid of his visitor 
and was anxious to 
have him go. He went 
to the little trunk again 
and brought back an 
old portfolio from 
which he took a piece 
of faded paper. How 
would something of a 
domestic character 
do?'’ he asked. 
‘’Wall, Parson, I be¬ 
lieve it would hit ’em 
big,” said Bill, wildly 
guessing at the mean¬ 
ing of the word. ‘ ‘Der- 
mestic is jest what we 
want. Jest line it off, 
Parson, an’ I’ll hum 
the tune.” And the min¬ 
ister with a few faint 
excuses, read his song, 
TWO SONGS. 
A woman sang before a 
breathless crowd, 
Her voice rang like an an¬ 
gel’s anthem past; 
A thousand voices shouted 
long and loud, 
In wild applause when 
hushed the song at last. 
She sang again beside her 
baby’s bed, 
A simple, tender lullaby 
and low. 
Till slowly drooped the 
dainty, golden head 
To dreamland, on the mu¬ 
sic’s rythmic flow. 
None heard her save the 
dreaming babe alone; 
There came no shouting 
voice, no wild recall. 
And yet the angels, wait¬ 
ing at the throne, 
.Smiled at the song, and 
\ called it best of all. 
He finished the read¬ 
ing and looked at Bill 
inquiringly. 
“Wall, give us the 
rest of it,” said Bill. , 
“But, my dear sir, 
that is all there is of it; 
that is the song com¬ 
plete.” 
“Oh lit is, eh? Ain’t 
ye gut nothin’ else ? 
What hev ye gut writ 
on that other paper ? ” 
and Bill pointed to a 
paper which the minis¬ 
ter was trying to push 
back into the portfolio. 
‘ ‘That is simply some¬ 
thing of a private na¬ 
ture.” 
“ It don’t make no 
odds ef it is—jest line 
it off.” 
The “fool” hesitated 
for a moment; but he 
was afraid of Bill and, 
after all, what differ¬ 
ence would it make ? 
So he read as rapidly 
as he could : 
Ah! lovely little worshiper, 
Within the dreary pew, 
I minded no8? the sermon 
long, 
I only worshiped you. 
The preacher’s studied eloquence 
Unheeded on me fell; 
I minded not the singer’s voice; 
The organ’s pealing swell. 
The preacher prayed, and humbly then 
The heads were bowed In prayer, 
Yet I, rebellious, sat erect; 
My heart was otherwhere. 
But when you bowed your little head, 
Forgiveness to implore, 
There came a feeling o’er my heart 
It had not known before. 
Ah ! lovely little worshiper, 
You know no what yon do; 
You know not of the purer thoughts 
That start at sight of you. 
You know not of the wayward sou! 
So nearly brought to grace. 
The foolish, sinful thoughts forgot. 
At sight of your sweet face. 
“ I s’pose you call that a soDg,” was Bill's 
comment. “ Well, yes sir, it has been called 
one,” answered the little minister timidly. 
“An’ do you s'pose I’m go’nter sing sech a 
thing ez that ? Why that’s”- But at this 
moment Mr. McKelvey broke in with his 
loudest call for supper, and Bill remembered 
where he was. “ I ges I won’t take it,” he 
said, as he picked up his hat; “I ges I kin 
down him with one of my old ones.” And he 
hurried out of the door as he found himself 
about to give a synopsis of his real opinions as 
the song’s merits. 
The little minister put his portfolio away 
with a sigh. He was beginning to see what a 
task be had before him. When he went into 
the dining-room, a great laugh went up from 
the whole table. Bill Gammon had evidently 
related his great adventure. The “fool ” had 
hardly settled in his place before Jack Gray 
began—“ Say, Parson, what kin I hire ye fer 
ter line me a song fer my weddin’ ?” 
There was a smothered laugh from most of 
the men. The minister was about to explain 
that he would do all in his power to help Mr. 
Gray, when Mr. McKelvey came to the res¬ 
cue. 
“Now, look ye ’ere, Jack Gray, eff you baint 
satisfied with yer board, jest say so ” 
Jack mumbled that he hadn’t ‘ got nothin’ 
ter complain on ez he knowed.” 
A MEMORY OF CHRISTMAS. 
On the outside he met Ben Stone and Hank 
Cook. “ Wall, what luck? ” they asked. 
“ Wall, sir, ef he ain’t the biggest fool that 
ever struck Drum Lake ! What do you s’pose 
he thought I was go’nter sing ? A bizness 
about some woman ez sung a couple of songs, 
one of ’em afore a crowd, and t’other afore a 
kid. It jest beats ’em all.” 
“ Be ye goin’ to his preaching termorrer ?” 
asked Ben Stone as they walked in to supper. 
“ Be I goin’ ter his preaching! Notef I knows 
it Ef his preaching is like unto his songs, 
his crowd will be terrible slim.”. 
“Then don’t let me ’ear [no more from 
you,” said Mrs. McKelvey, with her hands on 
her hips in a most suspicious manner. “ Man¬ 
ners is manners at my table, an’ them as can’t 
have manners kin go h’elsewhere.” 
There was a long pause after this speech. 
Those who watched Mr. McKelvey walking 
about the table saw his beard twitch in a sur¬ 
prising way. Could this facial ornament have 
been removed at that moment, I believe you 
would have tound his mouth stretched n the 
widest of grins. 
It was towards the end of the meal that 
Mrs. McKelvey whispered to her husband : 
“I’m go’nter run over ter Sarcv Sal’s for a 
minnit. Don’t ’e talk now, an’ watch that 
baby.” Mr. McKelvey nodded patiently, and 
his wife, throwing a shawl over her head, ran 
out of the kitchen door on her errand. 
Jack Gray’s courage revived materially at 
the exit of this important character. But the 
Parson paid but little attention to Jack’s bril¬ 
liant remarks. Jack finished his supper and 
started to go. As he stopped to light his pipe 
at the stove, he espied the baby in his cradle. 
“I’ll be throwed out, Bill,” he remarked, “ef 
that kid’s nose ain’t gettin’ picked.” 
St This was more than the little Englishman 
could stand. To be sure, his wife had told 
him not to speak; but who could keep silent 
when that baby was 
insulted ? 
“Yer lie!” he shouted 
in a voice that made 
the house ring. “He 
baint no kid; ’e’s gut 
more futur’ than you 
’ave before ’im, an’ I 
kin prove it.” And Mc¬ 
Kelvey dropped hia 
pile of dishes and ac¬ 
tually rolled up his 
sleeves to prepare him¬ 
self for any contest. 
His actions were so 
warlike that Jack re¬ 
treated. He walked to 
the door with an iron¬ 
ical “Evenin!’ Mr. Mc¬ 
Kelvey,” and went out 
of one door just as 
Mrs. McKelvey came 
in at the other. 
“Bill,” said the 
worthy landlady stern¬ 
ly, “I ’eard you talk¬ 
ing.” “Yes, mum, you 
did, mum,” roared the 
wrathful Englishman, 
“Jack Gray h’insulted 
the baby, mum, an’ I’ll 
punch ’is ’ead for ’im, 
mum.” 
I don’t know what 
induced Mrs. McKel¬ 
vey to perform such a 
foolish operation—per¬ 
haps it was becaur. 
her small husband had 
shown such pluck in 
fighting with his voice 
such a large man as 
Jack Gray. At any 
rate, she rushed across 
the room, and gave the 
little man a hug that 
must have taken the 
breath completely out 
of him. 
“Ain’t ’e ’shamed 
afore the Parson ? ” he 
gasped at last. 
“H’l don’t care, Bill, 
it ain’t often I do it,° 
returned Mrs. McKel¬ 
vey. 
Mr. McKelvey shook 
his bead as he gathered 
his dishes and placed 
them in the wash-pan. 
The last remark made 
by his wife was too 
true to be contradict¬ 
ed. Perhaps the little 
man,as he straightened 
his back and tried to 
expand his lungs, 
wished that these dem¬ 
onstrations could be 
spread over a larger 
space of time, and thus 
become more frequent 
and less violent. 
“’Ou did he h’insult 
the baby, Bill ?” asked 
Mrs. McKelvey, after 
she had carefully in¬ 
spected the cradle 
member of her family. 
‘E said as ’ow ’is nose 
was picked, ’e did, an’ 
’e called ’im a kid, mum, an’ I told ’im as ’ow 
’e ’ad more futur’ than ’im.” 
It might have been somewhat difficult for a 
stranger to glean Mr. McKelvey’s exact|mean- 
ing from this statement. By his skillful use of 
pronouns, he threw a doubt over the mind of an 
entirely impartial listener as to whether Mr. 
Gray’s nose or the baby’s was picked. But his 
wife understood him perfectly. She satisfied 
herself by a close inspection that Jack’s insin¬ 
uation was false. 
(TO BE CONTINUED.) 
