Our school, with only a few days’ notice, closed half a month earlier than we had expected. This, of course, interfered greatly with preparations for the closing exercises. Besides, two or three Sunday-school May festivals and picnics had been previously arranged to take place the same week, and so many of the pupils were absent; but we did the best we could, under the circumstances, each teacher having in her own room reviews and examinations of her classes, which have borne abundant testimony to the earnest, faithful and kindly work they have done.
On Thursday night we had an exhibition in the Congregational Church. It was a lovely moonlight night. The church was crowded to its utmost capacity; many, indeed, were unable to gain admittance, so great was the throng. The exercises, consisting of declamations, essays, recitations, and songs, were listened to with great interest and apparent delight.
One young woman read an essay upon P. P. Bliss, whose visit here is lovingly remembered, closing with reciting the last hymn he set to music:
“I know not what awaits me;
God kindly vails mine eyes.”
The Secretary of the City Board of Education, now acting Superintendent, and another member of the Board, were present the entire evening, and expressed gratification at what they had seen and heard. As they passed out of the church, they were heard to remark to each other: “That was good.” “Yes, it was good.”
I will close in the words which one of the colored boys printed in large letters in colored crayons upon the Sunday-school blackboard, “God Bless Swayne School.”
A Surprise Party in a Southern Church.
REV. CHARLES NOBLE, MONTGOMERY.
That our people can do a pleasant thing, and do it gracefully, they proved the evening before our departure. The Sunday previous, we had had a business-meeting of the church, and at its close one of the brethren requested me to leave them, as they had some business on hand in which my absence would assist them more than my presence. Of course, we inferred from this that “something was up”; but were unable to discover what it was. Nothing happening, however, until the close of the Wednesday night prayer-meeting, we had all come to the conclusion that whatever was intended had probably proved impracticable. We were sitting together at the Home, talking over the experiences of the year, when the notes of a guitar struck our ears, and a few voices began singing the “Sweet Bye-and-Bye” very softly and sweetly. I supposed that some of the people had come down to give us a little serenade, and stepped to the door to return thanks for the pleasure the song had afforded. When I opened the door, instead of the half-dozen singers I expected, a perfect throng of merry faces met me. The yard was crowded, and they seemed to reach out indefinitely down the road. I had barely sufficient presence of mind to ask them in, and then met the wave of increasing congratulations with very much the sort of feeling with which one meets a good big wave at the sea-shore. It was exhilarating, but bewildering. An enormous freezer of ice-cream, and strawberries, raspberries, and cakes ad infinitum, were brought in, and our rooms were soon crowded with about one hundred and fifty as happy-looking people as I ever saw. Young and old, grave and gay, Christians and worldlings, Methodists and Baptists, as well as Congregationalists—it was a thoroughly representative gathering. Our own people were out in force, and there were prominent members of all the other colored churches. For about two hours they amused themselves and us with conversation, singing, and playing. There was not a rude word or a boorish action. It was a gathering that would have done credit, in its behavior, to any community. They made the pastor and his wife, with the teachers, gather together and partake of the delicacies so generously provided, and then attacked them (the delicacies, not the teachers) on their own account, with right good will. For two hours they made the house echo with merry laughter and with singing—patriotic, sentimental, and religious—and then, after a siege of hand-shaking, which made me realize somewhat the trials our popular Presidents have to undergo, and with many pleasant words of kindly appreciation, they took their leave.