Courtship -- Fiction; Mate selection -- Fiction; United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
But all solemn meditations were suddenly interrupted, when, the
exposition ended, the congregation sang the psalm which had been
read. No wicked hymns, the invention of men, are allowed in the
conservative precincts of orthodox Presbyterianism, but only the old
metrical versions of the Psalms of David. The old custom of having the
precentor sit in a box before the pulpit was not followed in the church
at Samoset, nor were the lines deaconed out; these two concessions
having been grudgingly made to the progressive spirit of the age. The
precentor sat in the front pew; and, suddenly stepping out before the
people, he began in a cracked, nasal tenor to sing the psalm read.
The congregation generously allowed him half a line the start, and
then one after the other attempted the hopeless task of overtaking him
before he completed the stanza. He had a great advantage from the fact
that he probably knew what tune he intended to sing; and by skilfully
introducing sundry original quavers, runs, and quirks, he succeeded
in throwing his pursuers so completely off the scent, that, although
at least a dozen different airs were tried by various members of the
chorus, no one seemed really to have hit the right one until the
precentor had triumphantly completed two stanzas, and got well into the
third.
The effect was indescribable. Flossy was at first too amazed to
understand what was the matter; and then it required all her energies
to keep from laughing aloud. How any human beings could stand up and
give vent to such unearthly sounds, and still preserve their gravity,
was beyond her comprehension. The volume of noise constantly increased
as one after another of the singers, having tried hastily half a dozen
or more tunes in various keys, came proudly into the right one, pouring
forth a torrent of sound to let the precentor know, that, after all,
he was conquered, and his secret wrested from him. That individual,
finding himself defeated in his endeavors to conceal the tune under new
and more elaborate variations, sulkily abandoned the contest, and tried
to sing it correctly, thereby coming so far from the original, that
once more the congregation were puzzled, and, concluding him to have
changed the air, struck anew into a wild variety of experiments more
discordant than before.
The singing was so astonishing, that the words did not at first impress
Flossy; but they were sufficiently remarkable when once her attention
was fixed on them.
"Like water I'm poured out, my bones
all out of joynt do part.
Amidst my bowels, as the wax,
so melted is my heart.
"My strength is like a pot-sheard dry'd,
my tongue it cleaveth fast
Unto my jaws; and to the dust
of death thou brought me hast."
And so on through innumerable stanzas.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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