Sunday came and with it the knowledge that before dawn of the next day the good ship Queen Bess would be on her way to America. And on that ship would ride Tillie, Peggy and their escort, Cherry. Early Sunday morning the social worker from the subway and the little red-headed Irish pianist arrived in a car before the door of the Hideout. “All the people of our subway have read in the paper about your trip to America,” the social worker said to Cherry. “They want you to attend a farewell party.” “But I can’t sing. Can’t even speak out loud,” Cherry whispered. “We know that,” exclaimed the little redhead. “They know it and are sorry for you. But you can still smile.” “Yes.” Cherry proved her answer by a happy smile. “That’s all that matters,” exclaimed the social worker. “Then you will come?” “Yes.” Cherry swallowed a happy lump in her throat. “I’ll come.” “We’ll all go down in my car,” the young Lord said later in the day. “When the party is over it will be about time for you to take the train for your port.” “And we’ll all go down to the port to see you off,” Alice added with a grand smile. That party in the subway was like nothing that ever happened before. So happy were the people at sight of their Singing Angel that they stood on their feet and shouted for a full five minutes. It was Sunday night, but as if they must crowd weeks of joy into one wonderful night the people took the program in their own hands and sang everything from “Roll out the Barrel” to “God Save the King” and from “I’ve got my Eyes on You” to the “Glory Song.” Ah yes! That was a night Cherry would not soon forget. One moment they were bowing before the Old Rugged Cross, the next they were Rolling the Old Chariot along. When at the very end someone started “God be with you till we Meet Again,” many an eye was moist. But at the very middle of the song a huge man who could stand no more emotion roared out in a terrific basso: “We’ll roll the old chariot along.” And so, with a glorious shout they once again rolled the old chariot. Then the party was at an end. It was a jolly party that, as Big Ben struck the hour of ten, boarded the train bound for the seaport town where the Queen Bess lay at anchor. Children with their sponsors filled every compartment of the train. When they at last reached their destination and swarmed out on the platform the children began singing: “Roll Out the Barrel.” And no one said, “Hush, this is Sunday.” But everyone took up the song. For this was the children’s hour. There was no singing as, after finding their compartment for them, the little group from Ramsey Farm prepared to bid goodbye to Cherry, Tillie and Peggy.