The commonwealth. (Scotland Neck, N.C.) 1896-1929, 1898-09-15
WHEN EZRA Sang.
FIRST BASS.
ONE or THE SECRETS OF THE
CHOIR.
Taking Cold Scientifically.
BY LEON MEAD.
Saturday Evening Post.

Saturday Evening Post.
The shutters of Jenkins grocery
store had been up an hour or more,
and the little, red whiskered pfopri-
etor had been limiting as openly as he
dared to half dozen of his customers,
who were sitting around the stove,
that he would like to go home. But
his ostentatious preparations-the
slammlng of covers on open barrels
and the extinguishing of the lights
down to a solitary lamp-made no Wis
ible impression on them. For the
squat, little stove still radiated a hos
pitable glow, and the air of the room
was comfortingly blue and fragrant
with the smoke of many pipes.
The conversation, which had Ian
gulshed while there had been an occa-
sional customer to soothe the nervous
proprietor, suddenly became brisk.
From chickens it naturally drifted to
poultry diseases, and thence to the ur-
certainty of life. That suggested re-
llgion to Tom Hicks and religion, re-
vivals and revivals, sinners. So, by
an easy transition, the church choir
came up for discussion.
Then 1t was that old Uncle Ezra,
who had been silent through it all,
unIimbered ponderously, as properly
beftted great gun of the village.
"Reckon I never told ye bout the
time I was bass singer?" he threw
out.
A respectful chorus of 'Noes," and
" Tell us about it, Uncle =" "Ez, ans
wered him. Each member OF the
party settled back into his chair with
sigh of relief, and the unhappy Jen-
klns sat down on a cracker.box, for
Uncle Ezra, as man of wealth and
position, was not to be interrupted nor
hurried.
"Just twenty-five years ago, when
/ was in my PRIME" he began, after a
preparatory cough, "the Methodist
church was built, ana John Tate un-
dertook to organize the choir. They
called him the 'percenter, or some
thing of that kind. 'Tany rate, they
were stuck for bass singer. Every
one they invited to try for the position
failed. At last they mentioned my
name, and John come to me and ask
ed me to jlne 'em. At first I stood
out right and said no. not fatterlng
myself that could fill the bill tall. I
knowed one tune from another, and
l told him so; but my voice was weak
and anything but deep besides, at that
time had little tech of asthma once
in while.
sNone of you young fellers never
knowed John Tate. He was killed by
the Injuns after he went West, but
he was the most convincin' mani 'oout
ever see, and he got me to come to
church that night and try over some OF
the tunes. remember / had terri
BILE could that day it was deep sot. and
my voice was below zero, so to SPEAK.
"WeIl, seein' as I had promised, I
went down to the meetin' house, as we
called it in them days. Matilda Savo-
ry, now the widow Plunkett, was there,
and George Delameter, who was to be
the tenor, and Rachel Sitter, now de-
ceased, and Susan Black, who l had
paIiyanted round with considerable,
and had a sllnkin' sweetness for. There
was few others I don't just recollect
this minute. We first attacked that
hymn runnin-
!" "sThere is a fountain filled with blood
81 put my whole eoul into 1t, and all
the wind I could muster. They was all
surprlsed to find out had such good
voice, and 1 laughed in my sleeve be-
cause no one seemed to notice that J
had cold. We tried several pieces
and, alter fnishin', some one was su re
to say to me. Why, Ez, had no ldee
that you had such splendid bass
voice. and another would say to the
one sittin' next. We couldn't get along
without Ez don't his voice chord II
nlce?'
You can believe I was honored, ane
what made me feel the best was th'
kinder suppressed look of pride OF
Susan's face. For the time bein'
really thought could sing like a-a-
blackbird. Yes, that was the compar1
son / made to myself. You see, l wa
thinkin' of Susan her rear name wa
Black, as mentioned before.
il "This was on a Monday night
John Tate told us to meet on Saturda