standin' up. Well, you
could 'a' knocked me over with a feather. Abram always was one o'
those close-mouthed men. Never spoke if he could git around it any way
whatever. Parson Page used to git after him every protracted meetin'
about not leadin' in prayer and havin' family worship; but the spirit
moved him that time sure, and there he was talkin' as glib as old
Uncle Jim. And says he: 'Brethren, I'm not carin' much one way or
another about this organ. I don't know how the angels feel about it,
not havin' so much acquaintance with 'em as Uncle Jim has; but I do
know enough about women to know that there ain't any use tryin' to
stop 'em when they git their heads set on a thing, and I'm goin' to
haul that organ over to-morrow mornin' and set it up for the choir to
practise by Friday night. If I don't haul it over, Sally Ann and
Jane'll tote it over between 'em, and if they can't put it into the
church by the door, they'll hist a window and put it in that way. I
reckon,' says he, 'I've got all the men against me in this matter, but
then, I've got all the women on my side, and I reckon all the women
and one man makes a pretty good majority, and so I'm goin' to haul the
organ over to-morrow mornin'.'

"I declare I felt real proud of Abram, and I told him so that night
when we was goin' home together. Then Parson Page he says, 'It seems
to me there is sound sense in what Brother Parish says, and I suggest
that we allow the sisters to have their way and give the organ a
trial; and if we find that it is hurtful to the interests of the
church, it will be an easy matter to remove it.' And Milly Amos says
to me, 'I see 'em gittin' that organ out if we once git it in.'

"When the choir met Friday night, Milly come in all in a flurry, and
says she: 'I hear Brother Gardner has gone to the 'Sociation down in
Russellville, and all the Babtists are comin' to our church Sunday;
and I want to show 'em what good music is this once, anyhow. Uncle Jim
Matthews is laid up with rheumatism,' says she, 'and if that ain't a
special providence I never saw one.' And Sam Crawford slapped his
knee, and says he, 'Well, if the old man's rheumatism jest holds out
over Sunday, them Babtists'll hear music sure.'

"Then Milly went on to tell that she'd been up to Squire Elrod's, and
Miss Penelope, the squire's niece from Louisville, had promised to
sing a voluntary Sunday.

"'Voluntary? What's that?' says Sam.

"'Why,' says Milly, 'it's a hymn that