Evening star., 1938-02-13
February 13, 1883


their flames visible in this church gloom which
smudged together the congregation and made
their faces pale. The church was very full.
Every seat was taken and number of people
stood to the rear. Grant joined them. with
Muriel vaguely attendant upon him. The
organ began the first groaning notes OF
solemn march and this gave Grant the privacy
he needed for whispering to neighbor: Can
find Mr.. Culver here?"
Culver"
Car gone wrong up the road, said Grant.
yeah. He oughta be here somewhere"
said his neighbor He was pretty near skinned
out of house and home by old Walters"
That the dead man." asked Grant.
The big fellow beside him looked up at the
peaked ceiling and then at the gaudy windows.
When he could find no better words. he said:
Church or no church, he was the meanest
man in the world"
by the size of the crowd" said Grant,
he must have had good many friends.
though"
Not ever one of them all, answered
the big man. We've all turned out to make
sure he gets safe under the ground, without
rising up to remind somebody of debt that's
owing him e. . There's Jeff Culver, down
there; see him? Right up near the front.
This'll be over in minute and then you can
get at him.
The organ ended its groaning, gasped, and
was STILL The minister asked for prayer. Not
soul among those standing at the rear of the
room so much as bowed the head, and to the
mild surprise of Grant in the seated congrega-
ton all backs were straight, also. Only, on the
front bench. a little woman in black slipped
to her knees. To the right of Grant something
moved against the wall. He was astonished to
see Muriel kneelng.
The minister prayed loudly and we'll in that
churChly voice which is between a chant and
a yawn and which is heard in churches
only, or on the stage when an actor does
long death scene. He delivered no enco-
miums upon the name of the dead man but he
spoke about the brevity of this earthly life
and dilated at length upon the home" to
which all souls are travelling.
In pause, whisper near Grant said: "Old
Walters won't need blankets in that home
he's going to-"
This witticism produced a snickering which
the church atmosphere hardly could stif1e;
and two or three people were forced to cover
open laughter with sneezes.
The prayer ended.
Amy children" asked Grant.
Three. And not any one of them is here.
They're scattered heaven knows where, was
his answer. But poor Agnes Walters, she
stuck to the old hound right to the end. It's
a funny thing. amt it. how bad man always
gets good woman:"
Something like cold finger touched the
small of Grants back.
The organ now rrmbled through prelude
and the minister with wide mouth began to
lead the singing: but in all of that audience
only single voice joined him. The widow in
a shrill and cracked soprano tried to carry
on the air but the minister striking upon the
silence like ship upon reef, staggered off
key at once, and the hymn, which told of the
Lord. our strength in ages past, began to sink
to nothingness while savage little humming
whisper spread through the church. and faces
turned. taking grim satisfaction in the silence
which seemed to be burying old Walters in
something heavier than clay.
Anger not half so deep. hatred not half so
bitter. leads nations into war, Grant felt.
That enmity. focused like burning glass, he
felt like thing near him, danger from