"I see Timothy start to wave his arms an' I donno what he would 'a' said if it hadn't been settled for 'im. For then, like it was right out o' the sky, the church organ begun to play soft. For a minute we all looked up, like the Shepherds must of when the voices of the night told 'em the spirit o' God was in the world, born in a little child. It was Abel,--I knew right away it was Abel,--an' he was just gentlin' round soft on the keys, kind o' like he was askin' a blessin' an' rockin' a cradle an' doin' all the little nice things music can. An' with that Mis' Sykes, she throws open the church door. "I'll never forget how it looked inside--all warm an' lamp-lit an' with them little things bein' fed an' chatterin' soft. An' up in the loft set Abel, playin' away on the foreign organ before it'd been dedicated. An' then he begun singin' low--an' there's somethin' about Abel 't you just _haf_ to listen, whatever he says or does. Even Timothy hed to listen--though I think he was some struck dumb, too, an' that kep' him controlled for a minute--like it will. An' Abel sung:-- "'The Lord is my Shepherd--I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures, He leadeth me--He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul....' "An' at the first line, before we'd rilly sensed what it was he said, every one o' them little children in the midst o' their supper slips off the edge o' the cots an' kneeled down there on the bare floor, just like they'd been told to. Oh, wasn't it wonderful? An' yet it wasn't--it wasn't. We found out, when folks come for 'em the next mornin', it was the children's prayer that they sung every day o' their lives at their Good Shepherd's Orphans' Home--soft an' out o' tune an' with all their little hearts, just as they went ahead an' sung it with Abel, clear to the end. I guess they didn't know everybody don't kneel down all over the world when they hear the Twenty-third Psalm. "Abel seen 'em in the little lookin'-glass over the keyboard. An' when he'd got done he set there perfectly still with his head down. An' Mis' Sykes an' Mis' Holcomb an' Eppleby an' I bowed our heads too, out there in the entry. An' so, after a minute, did Timothy. I couldn't help peekin' to see. "An' then, when the children was all a-rustlin' up, Mis' Toplady she jus' hands her two pails o' milk over to Timothy. "'You take 'em in,' she says to him, her eyes swimmin'. 'I've come off without my handkerchief.' "Timothy looks round him, kind o' helpless, but Eppleby stood there an' pats him on the arm. "'Go in--go in, brother,' Eppleby says gentle. 'I guess the church's been dedicated. I feel like we'd heard the big wind--an' I guess, mebbe, the Pentecostal tongues.'