The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1899-02-02

THE shutters of jenkins grocery
store had been up an hour or
more, and the little, administered pro-
prietor had been limiting as openly as
he dared to half a dozen of his GUS
toners, who were sitting around the
stove, that he would like to 60 home.
But his ostentatious preparations
the slamming of covers on open bar
rels and the eXtinguishing of the lights
down to solitary lamp-made no WISH
bic 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 lam
guished while there had been an occa-
lsional customer TO soothe the nerv-
Gus proprietor, suddenly became
brisk. From chickens it naturally
drifted TO poultry diseases. and thence
10 the uncertainty Of life. That sug-
gestcd religion fo Tom Hicks; and
religion. rrt.s 81. and revivals. sin
,ners. So easy transition, the
church ct SOP for discussion.
Then .t r .. fhat old Uncle Ezra,
who had been silent through it all,
unlimbercd ponderously, as properly
'befitted a great gun of the village.
Reckon ! never told We bout the
time | was a bass SINCERE" he threw
out.
a respectful chorus of Noes" and
"Tell us about it. Uncle En-" answered
him. Each member of the party set
tiled back into his chair with a sigh
of relief, and the unhappy jenkins sat
down on a cracker-boX, for Uncle
Ezra, as man of wealth and position,
was not to be interrupted nor hurried.
Just 25 years ago, when l was in
my prime" he began, after prepare
tory cough, "the Methodist church
was built, and John Tate undertook to
organize the choir. They called him
the 'percenter," or something of that
kind. Tany rate, they were stuck for
a bass singer Everyone they invited
TO try for the position failed. At last
some one mentioned my name, and
John come to me and asked me to jine
'em. At first l stood out right and
said mo- not fatterin' myself that |
could fill the bill tall. l knowed one
tune from another, and | told him so:
but my voice was weak and anything
but deep; besides. at that time | had
a little tech of asthma once in awhile.
None of you young fellers never
knowed John Tate. He was killed by
the Injuns after he went west, but
he was the most convincin' man bout
ever see, and he got me to come to
church that night and try over some
of the tunes. | remember | had ter
rible cold that day; it was deep sot,
and my voice was below zero, so to
speak.
"Well, SEEM as l had promised, I
went down to the meetin' house, as
we called it in them days. Matilda
Savory, now the Widow Plunkett, was
there, and George Delameter, who
was to be the tenor, and Rachel Sitter,
now deceased. and Susan Black, who
] had gallivanted round with consid-
cradle, and had a slinkin' sweetness
for. There was a few others | don't
just recolect this minute. We first
attacked that hymn runnin'-
There is a fountain filled with blood"
Il put my whole soul into it, and all
the wind | could muster. They was all
surprised to find out | had such a good
bass voice, and | laughed in my sleeve.
because no one seemed to notice that
had cold. We tried several pieces,
and, after fnishin', some one was sure
10 say to me: why, Ez, had no idee
that you had such a splendid bass
voice. and another would say to the
one settin' next: We couldn't get
along without Ez; don't his voice
chord in nice?'
you can believe l was honored, and
what made me feel the best was the
kinder suppressed look of pride on
Susan's face. For the time bein'
really thought | could sing like al
blackbird. Yes, that was the compari-
son | made to myself. You see, | was
thinkin' Of Susan; her rear name was
Black, as | mentioned before.
This was on Monday night John
Tate told us to meet again on Satur-
day evenin' to practice, so we'd be able
to make the new church ring with de-
voUt song on the followin' iay. On
Tuesday my cold was disappearin', and
my normal upgrade voice was comm
back.