Nixon, his face naive and faintly mocking. Mrs.
Nixon sat defiant in her seat, braving them all.
Then a rustle, like a wood when the wind suddenly catches the leaves.
And then the tall, weird minister got to his feet, and in his strong,
bell-like, beautiful voice--the only beautiful thing about him--he said
with infinite mournful pathos:
'Let us unite in singing the last hymn on the hymn-sheet; the last hymn
on the hymn-sheet, number eleven.
'Fair waved the golden corn,
In Canaan's pleasant land.'
The organ tuned up promptly. During the hymn the offertory was taken. And
after the hymn, the prayer.
Mr. Enderby came from Northumberland. Like Harry, he had never been able
to conquer his accent, which was very broad. He was a little simple, one
of God's fools, perhaps, an odd bachelor soul, emotional, ugly, but very
gentle.
'And if, O our dear Lord, beloved Jesus, there should fall a shadow of
sin upon our harvest, we leave it to Thee to judge, for Thou art judge.
We lift our spirits and our sorrow, Jesus, to Thee, and our mouths are
dumb. O, Lord, keep us from forward speech, restrain us from foolish
words and thoughts, we pray Thee, Lord Jesus, who knowest all and judgest
all.'
Thus the minister said in his sad, resonant voice, washed his hands
before the Lord. Fanny bent forward open-eyed during the prayer. She
could see the roundish head of Harry, also bent forward.
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