On Christmas day in the evening . ilence was a thing to be felt,the voice spoke again. It no longerrang — it sank into a low plead-ing, in words out of the Bookupon which the clasped old handsrested: Now, therefore, O our God, hearthe prayer of Thy servant and his XiAJi*«i2A:ij si^^s^m^^m la:* JXujinlljf 6supplications, and cause Thy faceto shine upon Thy sanctuary that isdesolate, for the Lords sake. IX Up in the choir-loft, chokily Guy-whispered to Margaret, Cant weend with * Holy Night, again ?Nothing else seems to fit, after that. She nodded, her eyes wet. It hadnot been thought best to as
On Christmas day in the evening . ilence was a thing to be felt,the voice spoke again. It no longerrang — it sank into a low plead-ing, in words out of the Bookupon which the clasped old handsrested: Now, therefore, O our God, hearthe prayer of Thy servant and his XiAJi*«i2A:ij si^^s^m^^m la:* JXujinlljf 6supplications, and cause Thy faceto shine upon Thy sanctuary that isdesolate, for the Lords sake. IX Up in the choir-loft, chokily Guy-whispered to Margaret, Cant weend with * Holy Night, again ?Nothing else seems to fit, after that. She nodded, her eyes wet. It hadnot been thought best to ask thecongregation to sing. There was noknowing whether anybody would singif they were asked. Now, it seemedfortunate that it had been so arranged,for somehow the congregation didnot look exactly as if it could not George Tomlinson, forhe had a large frog in his Asa Fraser, for he had a furiouscold in his head. Not Maria Hill,for though she hunted vigorously,high and low, for her handkerchief, 54 J r t. w she was unable to locate it, and the ^^J»front of her best black silk was rapidly ^^becoming shiny in spots — a factcalculated to upset anybodys sing-ing. Not even Miss Jane Pollock,for though no tears bedewed herbright black eyes, there was a pecu-liar heaving quality in her breathing,which suggested an impediment ofsome sort not to be readily it may be safely said that therewas not a bakers dozen of peopleleft in the church who could havecarried through the most familiarhymn without breaking down. So the four in the organ loft sangHoly Night again. They couldnot have done a better thing. It isa holy night, indeed, when a messen-ger from heaven comes down to thisworld of ours, though he take theform of an old, old man with a peace-ful face — but with eyes which canflash once more with a light whichis not of earth, and with lips upon ? ?I If i
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