" She
jerked her hand in the direction of the window. The band was
again playing the "hoochie coochie."
"Never mind about the choir practice," said Douglas, with a
smile. "It is SOUL not SKILL that our congregation needs in its
music. As for that music out there, it is NOT without its
compensations. Why, the small boys would rather hear that band
than the finest church organ in the world."
"And the SMALL BOYS would rather see the circus than to hear you
preach, most likely," snapped Miss Perkins. It was adding insult
to injury for him to try to CONSOLE her.
"Of course they would; and so would some of the grown-ups if
they'd only tell the truth about it," said Douglas, laughing.
"What!" exclaimed Miss Perkins.
"Why not?" asked Douglas. "I am sure I don't know what they do
inside the tents, but the parade looked very promising."
"The PARADE!" the two women echoed in one breath. "Did YOU see
the parade?"
"Yes, indeed," said Douglas, enthusiastically. "But it didn't
compare with the one I saw at the age of eight." He turned his
head to one side and looked into space with a reminiscent smile.
The widow's red-haired boy crept close to him.
"The Shetland ponies seemed as small as mice," he continued,
dreamily, "the elephants huge as mountains, the great calliope
wafted my soul to the very skies, and I followed that parade
right into the circus lot.
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