The Mystery of Monastery Farm | Page 9

praying in their rooms. In one of
them the bishop was heard leading a score of young men in prayer.
Old-fashioned and old-time hymns were sung, fervent responses were
heard, and scores of persons from roundabout professed to have found
Christ. During six weeks this wonderful influence was felt. It extended
for miles throughout the country. During that time four hundred
persons took upon themselves the obligations of the Christian
profession and Monastery Church became a great power through the
county.
Mr. Keyes, the organist, had died in the hospital, and Carl had been
appointed in his place as organist and musical director. He very soon
organized a choir of forty persons. And this was not all that added
responsibility to this young man's life. The bishop, realizing the
growing responsibilities of his work, appointed him his private
secretary, which necessarily took him away from all the work on the
farm; but even this did not separate him from the farmhouse. He
continued to sleep there in "Carl and Tom's room," and, excepting
during school hours, wherever you found Carl Tom was not far away.
The grand old man, Dr. George Thorndyke, who gave three hundred
acres of land for a "school for prophets," little dreamed that his gift was

to develop to such proportions, and become, also, a great influential
church, a great center of religious influence, whose power would be felt
miles around.
But the college chapel was neither fit nor large enough for the demands
which were now pressing upon it. They must have a building capacious
and suitable in which to worship. And now the true character of the
great revival was seen in the prompt responses of the people; more
generous were they than the ancient people who built the temple, and in
the course of a few months a large and beautiful church was erected
capable of seating twelve hundred people. As this building neared
completion the building committee began to prepare for its dedication.
The chief clergyman to be invited was an old friend and classmate of
Bishop Albertson--Bishop McLaren, of Durham, England. There was
to be, of course, select music; the singing must not be inferior to that
which Bishop McLaren listened to in his cathedral home. Carl was told
that the Durham singers were known throughout the kingdom as superb,
and he must do his best in drilling his choir.
But there seemed to be, if not a lack of interest, at least a lack of energy.
For many weeks before the time Carl assembled the choir for special
rehearsal at least twice a week. And while progress was made, yet there
seemed to be a lack of enthusiasm in both singers and organist. The
cause of this was soon apparent. Carl was ill; and the day that the
president went to New York to meet his friend, Carl was attacked with
a raging fever. It was seen very quickly that the young man ought to
have given up much sooner and the best medical aid was hastily
summoned. Of course a substitute must be provided, and the committee
succeeded in securing the services of Professor Schuets, from New
York, to have charge of the organ and music during the dedicatory
services. When the day (the Sabbath) for the great service came Carl
lay in his bed delirious with typhoid fever. Nancy Sparrow was his
faithful nurse, while Tom was hands and feet to his mother. It was
really pathetic to see the little fellow as he sat near the bed so vigilant
and anxious in his desire to be of service. And when the doctor came,
how his great blue eyes watched his every movement! Then he would
waylay the doctor as he left the house, asking if Carl were not

improving, and if he would not be up in a few days. But the physician
did not dare encourage the boy. It was soon observed that every
morning and evening, immediately after the doctor's visits, Tom
walked over to the office in the warehouse, where Giles more than once
found him engaged in earnest prayer for Carl's recovery.
"I tell you, Mrs. Sparrow," said Giles on one of these occasions, "Carl
will get well. Tom talked to God today, and I don't believe that God
will refuse the little fellow what he wants."
It was on one of those visits that Billy, who was in the root cellar under
the warehouse, heard the lad's footsteps and, slipping upstairs, listened
to the prayer of his boy. These were his words: "Dear Father in heaven,
maybe you are tired of hearing me ask you for the same thing so many
times, but there is nothing else that I want; but I do want Carl. I would
not have to ask my earthly father