The courier., 1901-11-16
A ST DRY
Thanksgiving: A Monologue
emily Guiwits.D


air. Already the janitor was turning
out the lights-One f.ickering jet alone
remained in the organ loft. Soon the
church would be dark and silent. the
grey stone cleaning white i'm the
moonlight.
The sopranos We're in good form
,onight." thought the organist. as he
gathered up the sheets of music and
arranged them in order for the next
dav. That was fine crescendo just
before the tenor solo. There was life
and color in their singing generally
it is leaden and cOlOrless. If they do
AS well tomorrow / will be satisfied.
But choir singers are so unreliable
they positively have no sense of per
sonal responsibility. If one of them
happens to have headache. more than
likely she will not appear. then the
quartet will have to be cut out. and
maybe one of the solos in the anthem.
It's a mercy the boys are more faith
full than the girls. And what volume
Of sound does come out of their little
throats.''
Don't stop for me, john" he called
TO the waiting janitOr. I'll lock the
side door when I'm through believe
I'll just run over this accompaniment
once more before l go home"
What a wonderful composition this
is he said to himself. as he reverently
opened A Song of Thanksgiving" by
Frances Allitsen. In the ma jestic ex-
preston of a divine dictum | know of
no song that is it's equal. 1t is strong.
severe,-it breathes the atmosphere of
serene. yet ineXorable religious asCeti-
cism. And Mr. Archer is worthy of
the song" he continued. remembering
how the magnificent voice rang out
after the opening chords. 1t is some
thing to be thankful for that such
music and voices exist in the world.
Well. I'm going hOme-it's not neces-
T Sary to stay here all night because
we're going to have a little special
music tomorrow. Thanksgiving day.
indeed. My spirit of thankfulness will
depend very largely on the number of
empty chairs in the choir tomorrow.
Walking swiftly down the deserted
street. Organist John Barton soon
reached a comfortable brick fiat where
cozy parlor and bedroom answered
MS requirements of a home.
Now that was kind of Lizzie" n
thought. as the cheerful blaze of fire
met his eye on opening the door Just
as II she hadn't enough to do without
building fires in my CRATE. | must
bring Lizzie a little present tomorrow
no. it's Christmas when one gives
presents. isn't it? Well. | can bring
her a flower or two-some of those
trowZy-headed yellow things l saw in
The window today. Girls always like
hoWers-I must remember it. I really
must
y. Well. I've nothing more to worry
about tonight" he said aloud. as he
seated himself before the little file.
II seems to me | had something in
hlnd to do this evening-and if I'm
hot mistaken il was something pleas
ant, too. o yes. it was to look over
'rawford's new composition. Bless the
man. what a worker he is. to be sure
reaching all day. playing twice on
sunday and with choir rehearsals
enough during the week to drive him
stark mad-yet turning out a compo-
Sitlon every little while that takes your
breath away. There's a funny
thlng about Crawfords compositions
they're always Indicative of his
moods when he wrote them. His last
spirit Dance was written the night of
lnt HOMardS' narfN and the GRACEFUL