"I've had quite a trip, this time," he went on, in the tone which we employ when contriving a light diversion. "Been away out into Dakota—Bismarck, Mandan, Yankton, Sioux Falls. I was at the Falls one Sunday."
"Is that any great place to spend Sunday?"
"Lots of folks go there to spend a few Sundays—twelve or fourteen Sundays, and the week-days between. On the evening of my Sunday I went to church."
"I've known you to go to church on Sunday evenings before. Service any different from any other?"
"It was a song service. Don't you suppose the poor creatures waiting along out there in Sioux Falls have got to have their little consolations? Ain't music the great consoler?"
"They were consoled, then?"
"Oh, yes, indeed; the principal consoler had been there himself. He sang tenor."
"Better tenor than the average?"
"Good deal better. The most touching, pathetic tones I ever heard. He sang the 'Angel's Serenade,' with another man playing the violin. It was affecting. One poor lady near me, with a sort of Eastern look about her, just caught up the child in the pew by her side and burst right out crying. I was all broke up, myself."
"That's a good song," declared Ogden. "I always like to hear it."