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ay "Yankee Doodle." In spite of this counter-
attractiontoward which all four boys turned uneasy glancesI held my
audience. The Black Spectrewith a black book under its armdrew nearer.
Still I continued to play and nod my head and tap my toe. I felt like some
modern Pied Piper piping away the children of these modern hills--piping
them away from older people who could not understand them.
I could see an accusing look on the Spectre's face. I don't know what
put it into my headand I had no sooner said it I was sorry for my levity
but the figure with the sad garments there in the matchless and triumphant
spring day affected me with a curioussharp impatience. Had any one the
right to look out so dolefully upon such a day and such a scene of simple
happiness as this? So I took my whistle from my lips and asked:
Is God dead?
I shall never forget the indescribable look of horror and astonishment
that swept over the young man's face.
What do you meansir?
he asked with an air of stern authority which
surprised me. His calling for the moment lifted him above himself: it was
the Church which spoke.
I was on my feet in an instantregretting the pain I had given him; and
THE FRIENDLY ROAD
43
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