On Christmas he took his lozenger
to church and concluded to get even with the soprano if he died for it.
Candy had been passed around, and just before the hymn was given out in
which the soprano was to sing a solo, "Nearer My God to Thee," the wicked
wretch gave her the loaded lozenger. She put it in her mouth and nibbed
off the edges, and was rolling it as a sweet morsel under her tongue, when
the organ struck up and they all arose. While the choir was skirmishing on
the first part of the verse and getting scored up for the solo, she chewed
what was left of the candy and swallowed it.
Well, if a democratic torch-light procession had marched unbidden down her
throat she couldn't have been any more astonished. She leaned over to pick
up her handkerchief and spit the candy out, but there was enough pepper
left around the selvage of her mouth to have pickled a peck of chow-chow.
It was her turn to sing, and as she rose and took the book, her eyes
filled with tears, her voice trembled, her face was as red as a spanked
lobster, and the way she sung that old hymn was a caution. With a sweet
tremulo she sung, "A Charge to Keep I Have," and the congregation was
almost melted to tears.
As she stopped, while the organist got in a little work, she
turned her head, opened her mouth and blew out her breath with a "whoosh,"
to cool her mouth.
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