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"The inspiring strains of 'the English Te Deum, 'Coronation, rise on the starlit night, thrilling every soul and suggesting in its triumphant measures, the lines of Perronet's immortal hymn made sacred by a thousand associations 'All hail the power of Jesus' Name." "This greeting of the Resurrection, as it floats out over Monument Cemetery just opposite, where sleep so many thousands, does seem like an assurance sent anew from above, cheering those who sleep in Jesus, telling them that as their Lord and King had risen, and now lives again, so shall they live also.
The class was closed with prayer and singing. As a kind of treat, the last singing was a hymn and they stood up to sing it. It was Perronet's great hymn sung to old Coronation, and when they came to the refrain, "Crown him Lord of all," the very rafters of the little church rang with the mighty volume of sound.
Some of their hymns are little better than pious doggerel, and they do not hesitate to add to Perronet's grand hymn, "All hail the power of Jesus name," such a stanza as the following: "Let our soldiers never tire, In streets, in lane, in hall, The red-hot Gospel's shot to fire And crown Him Lord of All."
We were very happy that summer: the boys were quite happy, and the only thing that vexed me was thinking of Perronet's tax-money. For months and months went on and we did not save it. Once we got as far as twopence half-penny, and then one day Richard came to me and said, "I must have some more string for the kite.
You might lend me a penny out of Perronet's stocking, till I get some money of my own." So I did; and the next day Sandy came and said, "You lent Dick one of Perronet's coppers; I'm sure Perronet would lend me one," and then they said it was ridiculous to leave a half-penny there by itself, so we spent it in acid drops.
And several of the village children said, "What's that?" and I squeezed Sandy's arm, who was sitting next to me, and whispered, "Five shillings!" and the schoolmaster said, "Silence, children!" and I thought I never should have finished my lessons that day for thinking of Perronet's tax-money. July is not at all a good month for wild flowers; May and June are far better.
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