Three Young Knights | Page 7

by a little rail. They
were too thoroughly tired out to be curious, and, feeling some narrow
seats, they lay down, and, making themselves comfortable, were soon
asleep.
Jot was dreaming that Old Tilly had made him go to church and the
people were singing, when suddenly he opened his eyes. Was he
dreaming? Over him floated a sweet hymn, one his mother loved to
join in singing at church Sunday morning. The boy's eyes opened wider
still at sight of flecks of sunshine dancing on the walls near, and,
raising his head, he saw through the clear little panes of a long window,
where the green leaves were dancing against the glass. The singing
went on, and the boy raised himself in a wondering fashion upon his
elbow. Where were they? Jot lifted his head still higher, and, glancing
over the railing, he looked down upon a goodly company. The
amazement on his face grew greater instead of less. They were in
church!--that was sure. Jot looked back to his sleeping companions and
held his breath as one of them stirred uneasily. What if he should roll
off the bench? The hymn grew louder and sweeter, and Jot smoothed
out his hair and straightened his necktie and sat up straight. The
branches outside tapped the narrow, small paned window near him, and
from the open windows below the sweet beauty of the summer morning
stole in. But as the minister rose to give out his text, a sound from one
of the boys back of him caused Jot to turn.
CHAPTER IV.
Jot turned in his narrow seat there in the church gallery as he heard a
sound that made him think his brothers were waking. But Old Tilly had
only stirred in his sleep and struck out a little jarringly against the back
of the narrow gallery pew. Jot turned back and scanned the place they
had so innocently taken for their quarters the night before. The gallery
pew they were in was like a tiny half-walled room, with seats running
around three sides and up to the queer door on the fourth side. The
walls of the pews were almost as high as Jot's head if he had dared to
stand up.

Kent stirred uneasily and threw out his arm with a smart rap against the
side. Jot crept across to him in terror. "Sh! Sh! Keep quiet! don't
breathe! You're in meeting!" he whispered. "The minister's down there
preaching now! Oh, sh!"
"Lemme--" But Jot's hand cut off the rest. The other hand gently shook
Kent's arm.
"I tell you we're in meeting; don't make a sound!"
"Who's making a sound?" whispered Kent, now thoroughly awake.
Was Jot taken suddenly crazy? Hark! who was that talking?
"If you don't believe me, raise your eye over that wall and sec what!"
whispered Jot eagerly. He drew Kent up beside him and they peeped
carefully over. Kent dropped back, as Jot had done, in sheer surprise.
The two boys gazed at each other silently. It was too much for Kent,
though, and, to suppress a laugh, he stuffed his handkerchief in his
mouth.
Kent pointed to Old Tilly and smiled broadly.
"He promised mother he'd take us to meeting," he whispered, "and he's
done it!"
"Yes, but she wouldn't like to see him asleep in church!" Jot whispered
hack.
Below them the minister's deep voice tolled on solemnly. They could
not catch all the words.
"Come on! I'm going to sit up like folks. I want to hear what he's
saying," Jot whispered after awhile.
They smoothed their hair and tried to straighten collars and ties, and
then suddenly some of the people down below in the body of the
church glanced up and saw two boyish faces, side by side, in the gallery.
The puzzle was beyond unraveling. The women prodded each other

gently with their parasol tips and raised their eyebrows. The men
looked blank. When had those youngsters got up there in that pew?
One of the deacons scowled a little, but the two quiet brown faces
allayed his suspicions. It wasn't mischief--it was mystery.
The sight that had met Jot's astonished eyes in the beginning was a
quaint one. This was a new kind of a church! At home there were rows
upon rows of red-cushioned seats, with the hymn books and fans in the
racks making the only break to the monotony. Here the pews were all
little square rooms with high partitions and doors. The hard board seats
ran 'way round them all, so that in some of them people were sitting
directly "back to" the minister! Rows on rows of the little rooms, like
cells, jutted against each other and filled up the entire space below save
the aisles and the pulpit.
[Illustration: