Any one was free to
join, which perhaps accounted for Aunt Abby's strictures as to
time and tune. Jed Morrill, "blasphemious" as he was considered
by that acrimonious lady, was the leader, and a good one, too.
There would be a great whispering and buzzing when Deacon Sumner
with his big fiddle and Pliny Waterhouse with his smaller one
would try to get in accord with Humphrey Baker and his clarionet.
All went well when Humphrey was there to give the sure key-note,
but in his absence Jed Morrill would use his tuning-fork. When
the key was finally secured by all concerned, Jed would raise his
stick, beat one measure to set the time, and all joined in, or
fell in, according to their several abilities. It was not always
a perfect thing in the way of a start, but they were well
together at the end of the first line, and when, as now, the
choir numbered a goodly number of voices, and there were three or
four hundred in the pews, nothing more inspiring in its peculiar
way was ever heard, than the congregational singing of such
splendid hymns as "Old Hundred," "Duke Street," or " Coronation."
Waitstill led the trebles, and Ivory was at the far end of the
choir in the basses, but each was conscious of the other's
presence.
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