Weekly Caledonian. (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1919-1920, 1919-04-16

i, mo such bad luck, Mary. &C
your glasses and read this piece
| And then Ann and | have got a pla1
, for a good time TO propose to you.
SO it was that three days late
Aunt Mary and my wife and l wer'
being whirled through lower Connec
ticut in the chair car of a Pullman
: the first one Mary had ever exper
ienced-and that in the dusk we be
gan to see the ten million lights O.
upper New York flash out in the tw
lights dreariness. Three or foul
times during the ride Mary had chok
ed up and wondered whether or moi
Toms wife would be glad to see hcl
coming in unannounced in this way
But we treasured her and said that
surprise parties were always happiest
and studiously kept newspapers
away from her SO that no mention OF
the coming meeting might reach her
1t was difficult task inventing cx-
cuscs for not going Immediately or
our arrival to Tom Purses residence
over in Brooklyn. Finally we had ia
tell her that it was arranged for Tom
to meet US that evening at the close
of big meeting in the Manhattan
Tabernacle which he was covering
for his paper. Which was the truth
and satisfied her.
When we reached the place by
taxi after supper, the place, despite
it's wo'.ld-famous size, was crowded
to the doors with people. Old Aunt
Mary bore up well in the crowds; her
anticipation of what was coming af-
tcrward was pathetic. We fought
cur way up four flights of stairs and
came out on great gallery with the
whole vast sea of space below US
! throngcd with chaotic human faces.
! Three unoccupicd seats were obtain
cd down by the rail in the center,
on the sheer edge Of the dizzy depths
down into the body of the house.
Just before the great organ began
to shake that tremendous edifcc, old
! Aunt MARY lcancQ over.
"Whosc goin' to be the preacher
tonight" she whispered.
A flood of emotion went over US
that nearly swept US over the rail.
Poor Aunt Mary! If she only knew!
But we had kept the secret we'll; tho
surprise would be overwhelming.
"Wait and scc," was all We said.
We stole two or three chances at
her while waiting for those services
to begin. Her face was dccp-lincd
with the care and the struggle she
had experienced. Her red hands that
had set so many personals for our
little local paper, were distorted out
of shape with the years Of labor;
they were now covered with new
black gloves. But she was gazing
over that rail with the cntranced de-
light of child.
Time passed quickly. We had
come in late. The biggest pipe or
gan in America-or in the world
began to rumble and fill that trench
tlous void with sound.
Who the minister was who read
the scripture or who the dignitaly
who made the prayer, we do not
know. 1t doesn't matter Neither
did the leader of the music. But
nightly interested indeed were we
when three men mounted the chanccl
and took seats in the high-backed
chairs behind the pulpit. For in the
center of them, in smooth sleek
frock coat which fitted his stocky
and some youthful figure we
had small difficulty in recognizing
even from that height Thomas Purse
of the Paris Telegram office and the
poor Purse place.
1t was after eight o'clock when one
of the last three arose to announce
the speaker for the evening. We do
not know why,-when one man is
called upon to introduce a speaker of
'an evening, that he should deem it
necessary to impose on peoples pa
ticncc with supcrnuous oratory of his
own. Probably it's the same thing
that prompts an author to hold the
suspense of his plot as long as pos
siblc to be smart and score on his
reader. But the official laid himself
out for Il full eight minutes. Then he
ended up with Tom Purses name.
Aunt Mary's eycsight had not been
keen enough to recognize Tom from
tho height and the distance as VIC had
done. So she suddenly leaned over.
"What?" she demanded in Il hoarsc
whisper. "What did he say the
speakers name was?"
"Hc said, Mary" I told her in u
voice l did not recognize as my
own, "-hc said the speaker of the
evening was-Mr-Thomas-Pursew
"Why!-why,-that's the name of
my boy" she gasped.
"Mary," VIC said, almost fearful of
the result, that is-your-boy"
Old Aunt Mary drew back and for
one great moment became rigid
as though turned to stone.
"My boy!-my boy Toni" she
cried. 1t was heard all over our part
of the gallery. People crancd their
heads in our direction.
eyes," replied.
"Hc's-spcaking- here tonight?
He's prcachin'?"
ayes, Mary. 1t was all a little sur
prise for you. That's why VIC
I