Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1870-04-26

and an immense wide collar tied up |
in her neck with large green ribbon.
But she looked as bright and spark /
ling as ever, and Tim Jackson tried |
to get the seat next to her, and sue
ceeded only to be ushered by Peggotv |
Plimpton out again into the men s own
row. Little Jennie Keyes looked |
Sweetly in pink, aud all the rest of the
girls bore out the ancient reputation
of O. for good taste in adornment. |
The "get up of Tx Bryson and his
friends could only be equaled, never |
excelled. ks only trouble seemed |
to he that there was natural animoS- /,
ity existing between bis vest and trow-
sers, both manlfesting mutual desire !
to part company. Mildie Faunce'S !
piano was on the platform. but both
she and Harry Foster sat among the |
audience in front.
At eight the "Ode to Juno" open
ed, and was carried through to the
great delight of all, as the dust which
filed the church from the stamping
plainly kept in mind. Jennie Keyes
sung " Gentle Halle" beautifully, aud
had to sing it over again, and all went
swimmingiy, to the intense satisfaction
Of Peggoty Plimpton. To be sure,
Mrs. Sharp thought she never saw Ei
la Page look so shabbily, and Mrs.
Page thought Emma Sharp's hair look
ed as though it had been in a dust
hole; and there were few comments
on Anne Stnrtevelt's dress being of
very scanty length, and looked amaz-
| ingly like her small sisters white dot
ted muslin; but these were only lit
! tie eXtraneous matters foreign to The
music.
/ And now came Mr.. Henry Foster,
with We met by chance" John
Graham threw his eyes up a moment
and then rivetted them on the floor,
where he had kept them during the
whole evening. Foster sang his song
I fourishingly and easily, and was much
/ applauded. He had good voice and
/ free manner.
But as soon as the applause was
over there came deep hush, for Miss
Faunce was now to sing. All leaned
forward, and watched her slight form
as she lightly mounted the platform
and took her seat at the piano. Cast
ing her eyes about her for moment,
and tripping her hands over a note or
two, she broke ont into a simple wild
old melody, that made the audience
start and hold their breaths. 1t was
of war aud waving banners, and grim
battle, aud bloody victory, and every
word thrilled the air. John Graham
started to his feet, and leaning ior-
ward, one hand on his cane, one Oh
the back OF his mothers char, watch
ed her, with every fibre vibrating
through his frame. When she ceased
and quietly took her seat there was al
first a perfect silence, then the ap-
plause broke forth tumuItuously.
And there stood John Graham,
with head thrown up and hair thrown
back, his face all aglow with passion
ate excitement. Suddenly he stalked
forward without bis cane. and steadi-
ly mounted The platform. The ap-
pIause ceased-all eyes fixed on him
in astonishment. Seating himself at
the piano he threw thunder of deep
notes on the air, and looking up as
through the riven ceiling, he sang, in
superb volume of voice, grand and
round, and yet heart-searching, these
words:
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the COM
ing of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the
grapes of wrath are stored
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His
terrible swift sword:
His truth Is marching on.
l have seen Him in the watch-fres of a
hundred circling camps;
We have builded Him an altar in the
evering dews and damps;
have read His righteous sentence by the
dim and 1aring lamps:
Gods day is marching on"
As he closed the verse the whole
house sat rapt in wonder. And well
they might. His every look and tone
showed that place, people, time, were
not i'll his thoughts, and that on John
Graham had fallen seeming inspira-
ton.
But he went on now low and trem-
bling, each word quivering along the
roof and walls out to the dark starry
sky, and through the rough farmers
hearts:
'In the beauty of the lilies, Christ was born
across the sea,
With glory in His bosom that transfg-
ures you and me;
As he died to make men holy, let us die to
make men free:
Gods word is marching on"
And then pausing, his great deep
voice rolled out again, in passion
of feeling:
have read fiery Gospel, writ in bur
nished rows of steel;
AS We deal with contemners. so with you
my grace will deal;
Let the hero born of woman crush the SER
pent with his heel,
Since Gods truth is marching on.
H. bae so,,dad f,.+L H. ..r,,.xo. IL.
! shall never call retreat;
He is sitting out the hearts of men before
his judgment-seat;
Oh be swift my soul, to answer Him /; be
jubilant, my feet
. For God is marching on"
2 The effect was wondrous. Yor
J. could have heard feather Drop
! You did hear many a long drawn
e breath, many deep sigh. No ap
a plause, no loud sound. Every one
] spell bound, looking at the singer.
And then John Graham got uI
| from the piano, and went down ant
!. sat beside his mother in silence. AnC
+ as he passed Mildred Faunce he touch
/; ed her hand and whispered, Forgive
j. me, Mildie," and not another word
e What he meant do not know, unless
d perhaps, daring to follow her o*r
e glowing song.
After long pause the concert
p went on, though all felt that it was
= dull after this. AS they left the front
: of the church, after all was over, Mil
e die came close up to John Graham
d and putting her hand in his, asked
s him simply and in low tone.