Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1883-07-06
AN EASTER ANTHEM.

we praise lIee, " hoiu, S'AS LILO
choir in the little church at Oak Hill.
A lovely little country church nesting
amidst forest trees. with vines trained
over the rustic portico, and two large
orange trees peeping in the south win
dow
The church was very lovely and
peaceful in its isolation, but on this
Easter morning it was radiant with
flowers festooned in garlands around
the pillars and reading desk, and
worked into. notices everywhere.
The altar was pyramid of fragrant
white roses and gardenias, and
through the open windows the petals
of the orange blossoms outside foated
into the pews and chancel, and lay
there like snowflakes.
Everybody within two miles of Oak
Hill was at church that Easter Sun
day, looking happy and smiling.
The people were very proud of their
church, and perhaps of themselves,
too, for the taste and labor bestowed
upon it.
But their special pride was in their
choir and their organist, Herr Seldorf.
He was German musician, who, a
year before in his wanderings, had
CHANGED upon this little country vii
lsge, and somehow had grown SO
fond Of the people and the place, that
he fingered there still.
at was so PEACEFUL he said. And
every stranger who happened in the
church on such a perfect day as this
Easter Sunday would be apt to agree
with him.
A girl about fifteen, in a faded
calico and sunbonnet, had stood tim
idly in the doorway from the begin
ming of the services. She was evil
IDENTIFY q stranger, and did not belong
to the rows Of nicely dreste girls
who, in their fresh Spring costumes,
looked like flowers themselves
She was shabby and dusty, with a
dark, Gypsy face and flashing black
eyes, which roved admiringly every
where.
She seemed to shrink f.om notice
until the magnificent "Te Deum" rose
upon the air, and then she stepped
forward with clasped hands and a
face 30 full of rapturous delight that
people turned and looked at her.
She did not see them, but slipped
into the nearest empty pew, and stood
there with eyes full of fire fixed on
the choir gallery.
In few minutes new voice joined
in the chant, clear, pure soprano, of
such wonderful fexibility, such sweet
ness and strength, that Herr Seldorf,
at the organ, gasped with surprise,
and rolled his eyes wildly about in
search of the strange singer.
She stood in view of every one, the
old sunbonnet pushed back, the dark
cheeks flushed, the luminous eyes,
which seemed themselves to be sing
ing the inspired notes, raised upwards.
She seemed floating away on the tide
Of melody utterly forgetful of her
surroundings.
But when the chant was over she
relapsed into the shabby girl, ashamed
of her shabbiness, and pulled the old
sunbonnet over her face. She seemed
to pray very fervently, but her real
prayers went up in the anthems, for
she did not seem to know the hymns.
The service vas over and the peo-
pie commenced leaving the church.
Each one looked curiously at the
singer as they passed the pew where
she sat. Some paused, and would
have spoken, but she 50 evidently
shrunk from notice that they passed
on. 49,:
As for Herr Seldorf, at the: very
moment he had stopped to accosth her,
he had been seized by a friend and
carried off in hot haste to explain a
difficult passage in the afternoon
anthem to some of his pupils. Whilst
wrestling with his own bad English
and the stupidity of the learner, the
girl had slipped out of the church.
BY this time the church was empty,
and the people riding or walking
homewards. The girl stopped at the
stile, and sat down on the step with
q weary sigh.
"Are you tired, little onef" asked
the sexton. 'old Father john" as
every one called him, who had come
up unnoticed.
mot as tired as I was before I went
to church" she answered, timidly.
81 saw you there. A stranger in
these parts, I reckon"
eyes, sir. I used to live in Virgin
ia" with another sigh. Were NOV
ing to Texas. and the wagons have
stopped over that hill yonder."
'Your pa and ma there too?"
It was q minute before the girl
seemed able to answer that question.
and her beautiful eyes filled with
tears.
"Mamma died when I was baby"
she said, in low voice; "but papa!
oh, my dear papa! he died after we
left home. Oh! I wish he had been
buried here in this sweet place, in
stead of in that ugly field. full of
briers." Her voice chokea, and Fa-
Their John felt very badly for having
caused such pain.
You sang beautifully, my childw
He tried to change her thoughts. Il
don't think I ever heard any one sing
so beautifully before They must
have taken great pains to teach you
20 we'll"
She smiled
"Oh, I've sang in the choir at home
ever since I could speak, 1 think.
Papa was wealthy once, and he liked
music so much that I had the best
teachers. But l like church music
best of all; it takes you so far off
that you can't feel sorry for anything.
It's like having wings to fly away"
"Who are you travelling with?"
asked the sexton.
'Oh, Cousin Nan and her husband.
They are my only kinsfolk in the
world Goodby, sir" holding out
her hand. "The church did me so
much good to-day! You see, we've
bean trayalincy 40 LONG and 7 never