But the marvellous new feeling did not definitely begin till after
Sunday-school was over, when she was helping Miss Simpson collect
the song-books. Not the big, thick hymn-books used for the church
service, but smaller ones, with pasteboard backs and different
tunes. Melissa would have preferred the Sunday-school to use the
big, cloth-covered hymnals. Somehow they looked more religious; just
as their tunes, with slow, long-drawn cadences, somehow sounded more
religious than the Sunday-school's cheerful tunes. Why this should
be so Melissa didn't know; there were many things she didn't yet
understand about religion. But she asked no questions; experience
had taught her that the most serious questions may be strangely
turned into food for laughter by grown-ups.
It was when she carried the song-books into the choir-room to stack
them on some chairs, that she noticed the choir had come in and was
beginning to practise a real hymn. She loitered. It was an
especially religious hymn, very slow and mournful. They sang:
"A-a--sle-e-e-ep in Je-e-e--sus--Ble-e-es--ed sle-e-e-ep--From which
none e-e-ev--er Wake to we-e-e-ep--"
The choir did not observe Melissa; did not suspect that state of
deliciousness which, starting from the skin, slowly crept into her
very soul.
Pages:
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26