Auntie Barber couldn't sing; I will insist that she couldn't; but she could reason, bless her! And her keen, clear eyes saw through the films of selfishness and penuriousness wherever found. The committee of young people looked over at her and smiled and nodded approvingly. They had found an unexpected ally. Here Deacon Turner put in a demur. He had no objection to a church spending money for music, provided they had it to spend; but did the brethren think that in their condition, with a larger salary to raise, and the home mission collection not yet taken, and new books to pay for, they ought to put in an extra bill for music? Now, this argument might have had more weight, but for the fact that Deacon Turner was in the mood to want all the money given to foreign missions when the subject of home missions was broached, and he wanted it given to the library, or the salary, or some other needy cause, when the question of foreign missions was before them. Anything but the matter in hand, was Deacon Turner's motto. I have not time to give you all the pros and cons of that discussion; but the result was a partial vote to invite Theodore Pemberton to take charge of their music. Great was the joy of the young people. So pleased were they with Auntie Barber that they gave kindly answer to her somewhat timidly put question: "I suppose he is a good young man?" "Oh, dear, yes! Judge Bourne said his habits were very correct, indeed; noticeably so for a young man in his position. Those were Judge Bourne's very words." "Yes—but I meant—you know—I hope he is a Christian?" "Well, as to that, I believe he is not a church member; but he respects religion. Why, when he put his price so very low, he said it was for the sake of the cause. 'We must work cheap for the cause, you know,' he said, and he smiled very pleasantly. I am sure that sounds Christian-like." Auntie Barber sighed a little. She could not be certain from that remark that the young man served the Lord. "Besides," said little Miss Parker briskly, "it will be a help to him, you know; he isn't very regular in his attendance at church; no young men are, nowadays. I think it will be doing a good deed to put him in a position where he will feel obliged to be in church." Over this idea, Auntie Barber went home to think, and the triumphant committee went to formally invite Mr. Pemberton. The next Sabbath morning, it must be confessed that our church was unusually full, and all eyes turned expectantly toward the choir gallery, which was just back of the pulpit, and had for several years been vacant. All the seats were filled now, with bright, expectant faces. Mr. Pemberton believed in a chorus choir, and had been prodigal in his invitations. All the pretty girls he knew had been cordially asked to come and help sing. Auntie Barber looked up at the rows of faces with a benignant smile.