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July 1943
“Hey, what’s the idea?”‘' ,one husky lad shouted down at them, as he came by with his arms full of b o t t l e s . “Where’s the music? You can’t quit now.” Several others joined in rough re quests. But Nan shook her head. "I’m sorry, boys,” she said slowly, “but this atmosphere with the drink and smok ing and using the Lord’s name in vain, is not in tune with what we have been singing.” The train was already far away from the station, passing swiftly through open country. For an instant there was 'a hush over the entire cokch while the boys looked at one another, startled and a little sheepish. Then one decided the issue. “Go on playing,” he shouted, “we’ll quit.”-With that the bottles dis appeared into suitcases, and cigarettes were discarded by their owners. Nan and Janet, almost as surprised as the boys had been, smiled their ac knowledgment and reached for the accordion and hymn book again.
“Do you know the songs we are playing?” she asked. “Oh, yes,” several called out, and began to sing with the girls on the next song. Everything else was forgot ten as the boys, most of them the worse for dissipation, sang the words to songs they had learned long ago in some Sunday-school. Other passen gers crowded in from other coaches, some to stay for a moment and leave, others to join in the singing. Then the train began to slow to a stop, and the boys suddenly lost in terest in the music. As they had done at other stations, the majority of them b e g a n to pile off the train, even through the windows when all could not get out the door. In a few min utés they were back, carrying fresh bottles of drinks and cartons of ciga rettes. . Nan had put the accordion back in its case and she and Janet were won dering whether anything had been ac complished after all.
THE TRA IN OF OPPORTUNITY [Continued from Page 249] others like them, swept away by false ideals of cheering service men who were lonely, or swayed by their own fears that life would pass them by and they must snatch at a little hap piness while they could. “Oh, if they could only know the happiness of. fellowship with Thee, Lord!” she prayed. “All the tinsel of worldly pleasure would show up for what it is, cheap and unsatisfying. C o n v i c t them, Lord, by the Holy Spirit.” For a time, lost in the sense of the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ, she forgot the despicableness of her surroundings. She was brought back, rudely, when a soldier, making his way with some difficulty down the aisle, stumbled and fell against her. Groping wildly, his hand found the luggage rack overhead; he righted himself and began a mumbled apol ogy. Then he saw the accordion which Nan had reached out to save from pos sible disaster when he had fallen. “Ha,” he e x c l a i m e d delightedly. “Let’s have some music and get a lit tle life in this, place. It’s dead enough to be buried. Come on, Sister,” he de manded. “Give us some muSic.” “I’m sorry,” Nan answered quietly. “But I play only hymns. You wouldn’t want to hear those, would you?” “Sure, they’re Q. K. with me,” the boy answered, swaying. “We’ll listen to anything, won’t we, fellows?” An eager chorus encouraged him. Nan glanced quickly at Janet, dis may in her dark eyes. Clearly this was a situation neither of them had ex pected nor wished for. If they had to be in this environment at all, they pre ferred to keep well in the background. But the voices were insistent. “Come on, play something,” rose in a kind of chant down the lengtli of the coach. A little frightened by this new turq of events, Janet whispered to Nan. “P e r h a p s you’d better play,” she urged. “Maybe this is the reason the Lord sent us on this train,” Nan answered softly and opened the accordion. Janet, her heart beating quickly with the thought of giving some kind of wit ness for Christ to this crowd, soon found their one hymn book and held it while Nan began to play. If it had been difficult to breathe before, it was almost impossible now as the men crowded from either end of the car and grouped themselves around the two girls. As the familiar strains of “The Old Rugged Cross,” “In the Gar den,” “Tell Mother I’ll Be There,”| and other old hymns filled the air, the sol diers grew strangely quiet. And when Nan thought to stop playing, they urged her to go on.
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