I could almost
hear the
sound
of the
preacher's
voice
as I
sat, on still
Sundays,
way over there on the
hillside; there was that
proffered temperance
pledge I
never signed; my
grandfather's
good natured contempt of some
church folk and their doings; his
insistence that the
spheres really had their
music; but his
denial of the
preacher's
right to tell
him how he
must listen; his
fearlessness as he
spoke of these things just before he
died; these
recollections welled
up from the
past.
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