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Then I heard voices human voices. Oh, how pleasant to my ears! First, I heard shouts and short speeches, and then all of them mingling together in a chant or chorus. Rude it may have been, but during all my life never heard I sounds that appeared to me so musical or harmonious as that work-song of the sailors. It inspired me with confidence and boldness.
"There was more sand at the seashore than on this whole table yes, on ten tables like this." "There was not!" cried Flossie. "There was too!" insisted her brother. "Children children!" called the teacher. "You must not argue like that ever in school, or out of it. Now we will sing our work-song, and after that we will march with the flags," and she went to the piano to play.
And the man is singing as he goes about his work. Then comes a sudden soft inrushing of a flood of grace so great that it seems to displace all that was there. Oh! the man didn't know there was such grace as this. It seems as if he had never known grace before. And the work-song is hushed into a great stillness, though the wondrous rhythm of peace is greater than before.
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