It always seemed to me a bad sign to see people amused with caricatures of good, pure old faces. I don't remember how long the members of our choir indulged in these various entertainments; but I know that, as the weeks went by, they waxed bolder and bolder. Candies, nuts, and even lemons, circulated freely; notes were industriously written and boldly passed, and the whispering became almost incessant. The fact was, our choir was becoming noted for something besides its music; some of us were actually ashamed to take a guest to church with us, lest our choir might shock them. Well do I remember the Sunday on which the crisis came. The whispering had been almost incessant during the first part of the sermon, and more than once an audible chuckle had rippled down to those who sat nearest. The minister, good, long-suffering man, tried earnestly not to let his annoyance be seen; but he had borne a great deal; and those who knew him well watched anxiously the steadily rising flush on his unusually pale face. Once he stopped in the middle of a sentence, and waited for full half a minute, which of course seemed to us anxious ones like half an hour, for the whispering behind him to cease. I do not know to this day whether it was unusual and almost unaccountable heedlessness, or a spirit of defiant recklessness, which took possession of our choir for the rest of the morning. Whatever it was, Satan must have been proud of them, for certainly he had it very much his own way among most of them. Suddenly the minister made another ominous pause; so sudden was the silence that part of the loud whisper behind him was heard in the still church; "Tell him I'll flat in the next hymn awfully if he doesn't—" CHAPTER III. WE never knew what the accomplished flatter wanted when she spoke out in meeting. She became suddenly aware that the noise just below her had ceased. The minister turned slowly around and faced his tormentors, and into that tremendous silence came his voice: "I shall have to ask the members of the choir to desist from whispering during the sermon; else it will be impossible for me to continue." Had an angel from Heaven appeared suddenly among us, more startled quiet could not have ensued. The members of the choir did not even dare to glance at one another. One by one their faces dropped behind book or fan or handkerchief, and some of them, at least, shed indignant tears. The minister continued his sermon, and perhaps somebody listened, but Uncle Charlie Bennett cleared his throat several times, with hoarse growls, a way he had when much agitated; and Auntie Barber fanned violently, though the day was cool. As for the affable Theodore, he presently took his hat, and slipped quietly and decorously from a side door; and part of the choir rendered the last hymn as best they could without him.