Therefore as he continued to pull his exercise machine he resumed the singing of his hymn:
“Here I raise mine Ebenezer;
Hither by Thy help I’m come;
And I hope by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.”
Song of the Hidden Singer
A woman of culture was standing in a large London store waiting to be served. The customers were many, and some of them became impatient. Tired and irritated, occasionally someone would make an unpleasant remark.
Somewhere up toward the roof, a workman, invisible to the one who narrated the incident, was busy making structural alterations. Said Mrs. G. Elsie Harrison: “As he worked above us, like some ham-strung lark, he carolled.” The notes that fluttered down to her were:
“Tell me the old, old story
Of unseen things above,