Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1909-12-17

4
a display of the
forces of Nature as this seemed to be
snow-spout, If such a word may be
coined.
Just before entering the snowy
realm on an east-bound train,
Harold Lancaster had telegraphed to
Hollyville, a pretty little village in
Illinois, that he was on his way home,
and would be there in season to as.
sist in the church festivities on Christ
mas, after which the train had plunged
into the mountain region. He did not
know that his telegram was not sent,
as before it was dispatched the wires
had broken under the weight of the
snow, and all communication with the
east was suspended. The train plunged
ahead, assisted occasionally by con-
venient snow-plow, and was making
| fair progress toward the summit,
where it was expected it would meet
with less obstruction than on the
western slope.
Harold had gone on trip up
through the wonderful Canadian
country in the fall, promising to re-
turn to assist in giving Christmas
entertainment in the church, of which
Edith Lowell, his sweetheart, was the
soprano, as he was the tenor. He
| had written a little musical skit, in
which he was to essay the part of
trumpeter and messenger, to announce
to the Christian world-or the soon
to-be Christian world-the birth of
| Nd
of that event was to be greeted by the
beautiful soprano voice of Miss Low
ell in welcoming aria, which had
been composed with particular refer
ence to her exquisite method of bird
like triliings, which was one of the
features of her voice that made her
so popular with those who listened to
her voice Sunday after Sunday.
AS Christmas approached, and day
after day passed without any word
being received from young Lancaster,
she seemed buried in gloom as deeply
as were the foothills and even the
peaks as we'll as the canyons of the
great dividing range of the country.
All this time, out in the Rocky
mountains, a train was creeping along
slowly, and muff1ed tenor voice was
murmuring, almost muttering, in oc-
casional voicings, "a son is born to
the Highest!" and again, GLORY Halle
lujah!" as though in rehearsal of the
event in the little church in Holly
vile.
At last Christmas eve arrived, and
the congregation in their seats were
expectant. The choir singers seemed
to take their cue from Miss Lowell,
and a small mcdicum of success only
was anticipated.
Everybody was ready for the start,
and there was pause. The blast on
the trumpet sounded, which was the
signal for Edith to rise and be ready
; to greet the tenor announcement.
'If only Harold were here!" she
] said soto voice, as she arose. at
will be hard for me to sing it." She
/ stood expectantly. II have no inspi
ration without Harold"
: Following the trumpet signal, fig
, ure appeared in the distance; but
Edith did not have the heart to look
There seemed to be little commo
, tion.
20, dear!" she exclaimed, 81 hope
that end of it will not fail also, as
fear this will"
Then a clear, ringing voice sounded
. forth, which acted on Edith like al
electric battery:
i "A son is born to the Highest!" she
!, heard, which was followed by GLORY
: Hallelujah!" taken up by both choi
r and congregation.
> Her inspiration had arrived. Sh'
o knew the voice SO well, and her hear
Q leaped, as her voice rang out In thu
opening notes of her aria, which IL
9 turn was so inspiring that 1t brough
j. the entire audience to it's feet, and al
remained standing, in Difference t
d her sweet delivery of the words an,
u notes alike.
1T was great triumph" said tn
q old pastor, as he was being congratu
3 lated
o "And love was the keynote" sal
II a knowing young deacon.
y "Yes, love to Cod" said the pastor
- "And to man" added the deacon.