Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 6, 1923 — page 52: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

834 favorite hymn of his youth, not in the book; his voice was weak, yet sweet. Alone, he sang the first stanza: ‘The midsummer scenes shine but dim, The fields strive in vain to look gay; But when I am happy in Him December is pleasant as May!” One or two tried to help out, but nobody else seemed to know the words. ‘The lone voice faltered, grew discouraged, died away. Another long silence befell. Then, with a suddenness that was star- tling, a woman rose from the opposite side of the hall. Her shoulders and head were muffled in a plaid shawl; it was impossible to see her face. Her words were mumbled and hurried. The Slapper alone paid any attention to her; the rest had heard the same statement every Thursday night for years. She seemed to be a very wicked woman, deserving of a long stretch at the least, it not worse, by her own confession. Yet she insisted that she was very happy to-night; some act—a surrender, she termed it—had brought her peace unspeakable. As abruptly as she had begun, she ceased, dropping back into her seat as if blud- geoned. Immediately the minister called for another hymn. “Let us all rise up and sing!” he said, and began to beat time with outspread hands attached to bony wrists incased in frayed cuffs. This seemed to be a familiar tune; everybody but the Slapper joined heartily. The loutish youths on the back seat sang in a ridiculously nasal manner, which caused the sexton to glare at them, though there was nothing he could do about it, as they pretended to a desperate serious- ness. From now on the meeting went with a good deal of zest, skillfully stimulated by the minister, whose eyes wandered cease- lessly over his little audience, picking out here one, there another upon whom he called, announcing another hymn when all else failed. There seemed to be no formal procedure. An enormously tall, thin man knelt with difficulty. When he had done praying he seemed to rise joint by joint, taking a long time about it. Others mere- ly repeated a text from the Bible. Letty ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. did this, and her unexpected voice, clear and sweet in his ear, made the Slapper jump. He thought at first that she was addressing him. Then, calamitously, he was called upon by the pastor. Though he looked directly at him, the Slapper did not at first realize the import of the request. When Letty nudged him, he was horribly frightened, and all the strength seemed to have depart- ed from him, leaving him dead below the waist. The minister smiled encouragingly. “We are deeply pleased to see in our midst to-night the young stranger who is living with us,” he said. ‘“‘ Will he not say a word?” Then, as the Slapper merely stared back with bulging eyes, he added: ‘“ Just en- courage us by speaking a word for the Sa- viour ?”’ Like a sleepwalker he rose to his feet. He was conscious of a craning of necks, a glimmer of pallid faces in the light of bur- nished tin reflectors. He opened his mouth, but to his surprise no sound issued therefrom. He made a second effort, and it seemed to him that he trumpeted like an elephant. “Sure! He’s all right, I guess!” He felt the profound and shocked silence which followed his effort; caught from the tail of an eye the amazed look on Letty’s face; and then the competent clergyman announced: ‘‘We wil close by singing Number One Hundred; all up for Old Hun- dred! One-two-one-two!”’ Two or three old men shook hands with the Slapper at the door, and called him “brother.” They were deaf, and had not heard what he said. Letty introduced him to the pastor, who had scurried from the platform and shot through some secret pas- sage to gain the entry in time to speed the scattering flock with his blessing. The Slapper was grateful for the deep shade of elms along the street outside. ‘What on earth made you say that, Joe?” Letty asked, more petulantly than he had ever heard her speak. ‘What could I say?” he defended him- self. ‘* How’d I know they was gonna ask me to say anything at all?” “It was an experience meeting: every- EO OO ©