The Model Church. ELL, wife, I've found the model church! I worshiped It made me think of good old times, before my hairs were gray. The sexton didn't seat me 'way back by the door; He knew that I was old and deaf, as well as old and poor. He must have been a Christian, for he led me boldly through The long aisle of that pleasant church to find a pleasant pew. I wish you'd heard the singin'-it had the old-time ring- My deafness seemed to melt away, my spirit caught the fire, I tell you, wife, it did me good to sing that hymn once more, The preachin'! well, I can't just tell all that the preacher said; I know it wasn't written, I know it wasn't read; He hadn't time to read, for the lightnin' of his eye Went passing 'long from pew to pew, nor passed a sinner by. The sermon wasn't flowery, 'twas simple Gospel truth, The preacher made sin hideous in Gentiles and in Jews; How swift the golden moments fled within that holy place! friend, When congregations ne'er break up and Sabbaths have no end. I hope to meet that minister, the congregation, too, In the dear home beyond the skies, that shines from heaven's blue, I doubt not I'll remember, beyond life's evening gray, Dear wife, the fight will soon be fought, the victory be won, T Old Times and New. WAS in my easy chair at home, I sat and puffed my light cigar, I mused upon the Pilgrim flock, Upon almost the only Rock In my mind's eye, I saw them leave Before them spread the wintry wilds, Alone that noble handful stood While savage foes lurked nigh- Their creed and watchword, "Trust in God. And keep your powder dry." Imagination's pencil then That first stern winter painted, When more than half their number died, And stoutest spirits fainted. A tear unbidden filled one eye,— I knew I was alone-but lo! (Let him who dares deride me;) I looked, and drawing up a chair, Down sat a man beside me. His dress was ancient, and his air Was somewhat strange and foreign; He civilly returned my stare, And said, "I'm Richard Warren. "You'll find my name among the list Of hero, sage and martyr, Who, in the Mayflower's cabin, signed The first New England charter. "I could some curious facts impart- "Ask on," said I; "I'll do my best Says he, "First tell me what is that In your compartment narrow, Which seems to dry my eye-balls up, And scorch my very marrow." His finger pointed to the grate, Said I, "That's Lehigh coal, Dug from the earth," he shook his head "It is, upon my soul!" I then took up a bit of stick, One end as black as night, And rubbed it quick across the hearth, My guest drew back, up rolled his eyes, Quoth I, "A friction match." Upon a pipe just overhead I turned a little screw, When forth, with instantaneous flash The streams of lightning flew. Uprose my guest: "Now Heaven me save," Aloud he shouted; then, "Is that hell fire?" ""Tis gas" said I, "We call it hydrogen." |