Amen!" he said.
Then Cyrus's voice led the worship.
"Praise God, from whom all blessings flow!"
he sang, in a strong, glad outburst.
Boys and guides, in a great chorus, swelled the familiar words. Each
sweetly chirping woodland bird, after its own manner, echoed them. The
music among the pine-tops mingled with them. The forest fairly rang with
a magnificent, adoring Doxology.
"We ought to be decent kind of fellows after this," said Cyrus, when the
little service was over.
And the doctor answered,--
"I tell you, boy, the church was never built where a man feels so ready
to worship the God-Father in spirit and in truth as he does in the wild
woods."
And looking on the six fresh, manly faces before him, Dr. Phil saw that
this happy woodland trip would have grander results than adding to the
campers' inches and to the breadth of their shoulders. For each one of
them had realized this morning that behind all strength and beauties of
forest growth, behind their own souls' gladness, was a Presence which
they could "almost palpably feel.
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