The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, 1877-08-11
POETRY.
From the Utica Observer.
TROUBLE IN THE CHOIR.


There was something SO unusual in the singing Of
the choir
That the Elder looked up mildly from the tenth Of
jeremiah,
And with readjusted eye-glass looked along the
foremost row,
While hundred necks were twisted in stare from
all below.
As before the rolling thunder comes distant, vail
ing moan,
There was presage of disturbance in the very or
gan's Tone
Just the popping of the pickets, ere the battles
awful din,
Or the tuning of the ddles the orchestra begin
An unprejudiced observer might have seen with
half an eye
There was waiting an explosion that would blow
them all sky-high,
Or spontaneous combustion, to accept modern
name,
That was waiting just motion to burst forth into
The Soprano sat in grandeur, with her book before
her face,
With her back-comb turned in anger on the Alto
and the Bass;
While the Tenor stood beside her with an elevated
nose,
And the Organist paved madly at the pedals with
his toes.
How could any one but Angels sing when they
were feeling so
Though the hymn was "SOngs of Gladness, they
would make it "Sounds of Woe"
When sing about devotion, some devotion we
must feel,
Or our plaintive tones of worship will partake
somewhat of squeal.
But the Alto sung her solo, and then left it to the
Bass,
ing for the place
While the 0rganist, in anger, sung the leading
part alone,
And the Tenor tried to follow, but it ended in a
groan.
As the horror-stricken people heard the discord
rising higher,
1t was patent to the simplest there was trouble in
the choir,
And the 0rganist, in fury, closed the organ with
crash,
And the Alto sobbed in anguish and the choir had
gone to smash.
When the Elder went among them with view to
reconcile,
The Soprano told her story with sanguinary
smile
1t appeared the wretched Chorister had introduced
a girl,
With brand-new style of singing, and most dis
tracing curl.
But, to cap the bitter climax, this usurper wore
hat,
Just a duck, gem, beauty, and it made the rest
look fiat;
And the straw that broke the camels back and
made the wreck complete
She came early Sunday morning, and usurped the
leading seat.
When the Elder asked the Tenor why he left, he
said: because
The Soprano said his chest tones sounded just like
hing saws;
And he overheard the Alto one night whisper to
the Bass,
That man with such moustache was palpable
disgrace"
his views
When he came and Joined the Elders choir, TO
help fill up his pews.
He was an EpiscOpalian, and if people thought
he'd take
Any nonsense from a Baptist, they had made a
great mistake.
Then the organist and Alto put on an injured
look,
Saying something in an undertOne about change
of book;
And the Elder overheard them, as he gently closed
the door,
Use the words, "a poor old fOgy," and "a senti-
mental bore"
And he scratched his poor old nOddle, as he ambled
down the street,
With his spectacles on forehead and his slippers
on his feet;
And really think the Elder has hope of pour
ing oil
On the troubled sea of music to aIlay the sad tur
moi.
In the meantime service opens with old "China'
or "Bethune,"
And the Deacon with his tune-fOrk gives the peO-
pie all the tune;
And the OrgOn gathers cobwebs, and the people
gather grace,
While they roar out coronation" to the Deacon
hoarsest bass