The Dalles daily chronicle. [volume] (The Dalles, Or.) 1890-1948, 1891-06-29

ceffy passed round. and tlsensa as the bells,
was a-ringin' we perceeded to the church
1t wa'l'f' but a few, steps, jest acrost the
common.
And we walked up the broad aisle ter
gethers Hannibal and me. 4 a-leanin' on
his arm. lookin my best, and he his'n,
with every ybody's eyes upon MS! | tried
not to feel proud, but it was a happy
moment for me. tell We. And when
we set down in the old pew where I'd
set ever sence was a baby, mother on
one side, Hannibal on t'other. and me in
the middle. it seemed awful pleasant,
somehow. seemed as if never loved the
old church so we'll Not that there's
anything nice or harnsome bout our
meetin' house in Craney Holler; it's al
most barn compared ter city churches
but it had one recommend 1t was sur
rounded by natur. whose God we had
come to adore. The great wiuders was
wide open and could look ont on to the
common, all green and wavy with ma
Piles. then away off acrost the medders,
and up. mp to the woody hilltops that
touched the blue canopy o. heaven.
Oh. how can anybody that lives in the
country ever lack for religious privi-
AC6Cc- NNO0 70 oO dlSsA CFOAy WLC1Co LII
natur' and he speaks through her SO
plain and SO direclk! Why, if l could git
the time if hadn't so much house work
ter dew and one thing a mother, I'd
make a practice O. goin' out every day,
as reg'lar as l say my prayers, to some
beautiful. sullum spot, purpose ter
commune with my Maker through ma
tur. In no other way can we git SO near
to God. .i
AS said. it seemed uncommon pleas
ant to me in nleetin that Sunday morn
in The horses stompin in the sheds
didn't seem ter disturb me as usual. ana
the chirpin of the birds and the dronin-
of the crickets through the drowsy air
sounded awful nice and soothin'. 70 liz
side. the honse was full of good, old
fashioned smells. Patigony mint and
boys love and tanzy and caminomile;
for all the old ladies, and good many
of the young folks, had bunch o. one
or the other, and perhaps sprig o. green
caraway seed ter MUNICH away on in case
they's inclined TO be sleepy.
looked down 20 where old SQuire
Brown set in his pew in front o. the pull
pit-asleep aud noddin' SO quick he was
and noticed that one hand wisely sup
ported his head III order ter keep on his
red wig o hair. Brit he wa int alwers SO
careful, for | remembered how nigh he
often come ter losin' ont, and how. one
Sunday, it did actewally slip clear off'n
his bald pate. and how he jumped and
clapped his hand TO his head and all the
young folks laughedy and some O the old
ones. Even Parson Eamson Jest barely
saved himself by timely sneeze!
Strange that all this should come back
to me so ON. my we;ldin' mornin', but it
did, and good deal more. and had a
hard tussle bringin myself into proper
frame o mind to tend to the. service.
Mother aiwers had a him book to her
self, on account o seein' better. We know,
SO Hannibal and me we looked on ter
gether, and i had the proud pleasure o
hearin' him sing for the fust time. He's
got most powerful voice. and his e&-
preston does beat all! Everybody was
lookin' at him. Why he acted it all out
so, as you might say. When he struck a
high note he riZ up to his full statur',
balanced himself kinder teenterin' on his
toes, stretched mp his neck. rolled his
eyes way inter the back part of his head
and sech tone as he fetched-high-oh,
terrible high. and ON the contr'y, whei;
he sung low note. he jest scrooched all
down inter his stummuck and chist and
somethin rumbled way down in his in
sides, low-oh. terrible low and sollum!
! think his low A was the very lowest
one ever heerd! His singin was sart-
inly imposin. and know it imposed ON
everybody that heerd it. As for me. /
felt SO excited and lifted up by it that |
KEEP awake all through the sermon, didn't
even nod once. and was right ON hand
ter rouse up mother and Hannibal in
season for the doxology. Then come the
beneliction. and we walked out tergeth-
er as we come in, with every body lookjn
and admirin and envyin. And | tried
ter realize that was married, and that
this was my weddin'day. but somehow
couldn't; it all seemed like dream
Belle c. Greene in Portfolio.