The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1895-10-26
STRIKE In THE CHOIR.
By ROBERT J. BURDErrE.

4
Baptist church in Peoria. Ny legs were
short and the pew was high, and while
! listened to the sermon and swung my
feet, shackled by the unwonted and
cruel shoon of the Sabbath day, often
wondered how many hundred years it
would be ere could reach the floor with
my feet as my father did. There were
two footstools in the pew, but it was
considered wicked for boy to put his
feet on one of them. They were made
exclusively for grown-up people who
did not need them. They were also
used to trap the unwary stranger who
came sliding softly and sideways into
the pew without an invitation. He fell
over one and kicked the other. That
notified the worshipers in the front
pews that there was u stranger within
our gates and they could turn around
and look at him. But for this automa-
tic system of signaling, many devout
woman would have gone home without
knowing the particular kind of clothing
the stranger wore.
Straight across the rear of the
church, high above the congregation,
ran long gallery. Here was the me-
lodeon, which was the pipe-organ Of
our day; here sat the choir, literally
and musically 'out of sight" i re-
member we had an odd custom, origin
ating in some idea so old that nobody
could remember it, and the rest of us
never knew it. When the congregation
rose to sing the closing hymn, it about
faced and looked at the choir. Then at
the end of the hymn we faced about
once more and received the benedic-
ton. | supposed this was done to
give the congregation opportunity to
see who was in the choir and what they
had on, and also to enable the singers
to complete their inventory of the con-
grcgational adornments. 1t must have
been tantalizng to look at the backs of
heads all through the service and guess
ut the face trimming of every new bon
net in the house. Because in those
days you had to walk all the way around
Il bonnet to take in the entire pattern.
Your mother, dear, did not wear Il post
age stamp with two horns on il, and
call it Il bonnet. Men talk about the
big hat YOU wear in the opera house. |
wish your critic might have stood be-
hinl your grandmother at baptisE'
out in Peoria back in the fifties. He
couldn't have seen the lake, nor very
much Of the woods on the opposite
shore. lie might have caught glimpse
Of the sky if the day was fair and your
grandmother stood still. But when she
rose on her tip-toes to reach "E' in
"Coronation," he could see her bonnet
and that was all. And that was enough.
In that day bonnet was built to cover
the wearer's head And neck. And n
section of the shoulders. And to over
shadow the face. And n flowcr-gardcn
in full bloom blazed and shone and
clustered around, above and beneath
it. None of your buds and grasses in
those days.
And our choir! Well, now, there was
n choir that could sing! When they
felt in good voice, which was every
time they stood up, you couldn't hear
the melodcon. They read music at
sight as proof-reader reads print
And they sang in a way that made
everybody else sing. Everybody would
sing anyhow, therefore it was useless
for the leader--nobody called him the
chorister then-to select new tunes and
spring them upon the audience sudden
ly. The congregationw would join in with
all confidence just the same, on the sec
ond word, and sing right along, only n
syllable or two behind. If the hymn
was of the usual length, by the time
they sang through the third stanza