Evening star., 1951-05-06
POEM FURNISHED.

From Mrs. A. C. W., Washington
When read the request from
f.. C. H., Brentwood. for a poem
with the words-"And after every
verse they played little tune"-I
knew she was quoting from Will
Carleton's poem, ''The New
Church Organ"
Will Carleton's poems were great
favorites in our childhood home,
my mother and sisters were
crazy" about over the Hills to
the Poorhouse Death-Doomed "
and in later years when was on
the lecture platform I quoted quite
a section of 1.-THE First Settlers
Story"
We children liked poems by
other great poets, "The Barefoot
Boy" THE Children's Hour, "
"Curfew Shall Not Ring Tonight, I"
and so on.
I often wonder if the children
of today are fascinated by the
kind of things we liked.
THE NEW CHURCH ORGAN.
They've got brand-rew organ, Sue,
For all their fuss and search;
They've done just as they said they'd do,
And fetched it into church.
They're bound the critter shall be seen.
And on the preachers right
They've hoisted up their new machine.
In everybodys sight.
They've got a chorister and choir,
Agin my voice and vote;
For it never was my desire,
To praise the Lord by note!
I've been a sister good an true
For f1ve-an'- thirty year;
I've done what seemed my part to DO,
An prayed my duty clear;
I've sung the hymns both slow and quick.
Just as the preacher read,
And twice. when Deacon Tubbs was sick.
took the fork and led!
And how their bold, new-fangled ways
Is comm all about;
And l., right in my latter days.
Am fairly crowded out!
Today the preacher, good old dear,
With tears all in his eyes.
Read Il can read my title clear
To mansions in the skies:
/ s'pose I aPays will;
In good old Ortonville;
But when that choir got up to Sing,
couldn't catch a word;
They sung the most doggonest thing
A body ever heard!
Some worldly chaps was standin' near;
And when i seen them grin,
I bid farewell to every fear
And boldly waded In.
l thought I'd chase their tune along.
And tried with all my might:
And though my voice Is good an strong.
I couldn't steer it right;
When they was high, then I was low,
An also contrawiSe;
An too fast or they too slow,
To mansions in the skies
An after every verse you know.
They play little tune;
I didn't understand, an so
I started in too soon;
pitched it pretty middlin' high.
But. oh. aiasi / found that
Was singing there alone
They LAUGHED aS dola 2 little; aI4 am told
And not a wave Of trouble rolled
Across my peaceful breast.
And Sister Brown-I could but look
She sat right front of me;
She never was no singin'-book,
And never went to be;
But then she arsys tried to do
The best she could. she said;
And KEEP it with her head.
But when she tried this mornin'. oh.
I had to laugh or cough;
| 1t kept her head bobbin' so
1t cen Almost came on!
And Deacon Tubbs---he all broke down.
AS one might well suppose;
He took one look at Sister Brown.
And meekly scratched his nose.
He looked his hymn-book through Ant
through.
And laid it on the seat,
And then q pensive sigh he drew.
And looked completely beat.
And when they took another bout.
He didn't even rise,
But drawed his red bandanner out.
and wiped his weepin' eyes.
I've been a sister good and true.
For hve-an' thirty year;
I've done, what seemed my part to do,
And prayed my duty clear.
But death will stop my voice. know,
For he is on my track:
And some day. to church will 20,
And never more come back.
And when the folks gets up to sing
Whene'er that time shall be
1 do not want no patent thing
AsQuealin' over me!
BY WILL CARLETON PUBLISHED
IN FARM BALLADS"