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Howells, William Dean, 1837-1920

"Seven English Cities"

The simple local
life went on around; people going to or from supper passed me;
kind, vulgar noises came from the little houses bulging over the
narrow, neighboring streets; there seemed to be the stamping of
horses in a stable, and there was certainly the misaspirated talk
about them. I could not have asked better material for the humble
emotions I love; and I was more than content on my way home to
find myself one of the congregation at the loud devotions of a
detachment of the Salvation Army. After a battering of drums and
a clashing of cymbals and a shouting of hymns, the worship
settled to the prayer of a weak brother, who was so long in
supplication that the head exhorter covered a yawn with his hand,
and at the first sign of relenting in the supplicant bade the
drums and cymbals strike up. Then, after a hymn, a sister, such a
very plain, elderly sister, with hardly a tooth or an aitch in
her head, began to relate her religious history. It appeared that
she had been a much greater sinner than she looked, and that the
mercy shown her had been proportionate.


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