"How did the singing go?"

"Tolerably."

"That's a comfort," said the organist, looking more pleased than the
occasion seemed to warrant. But he was not a vain man; he merely supposed
that the gentleman's reply promised criticism worth hearing.

"Didn't you hear it yourself?"

"Oh, yes, after a fashion. I play the organ. It isn't the best situation
for hearing. I thought it decent. Particularly the _Gloria in Excelsis_. I
was most anxious about that. How did it sound to you, sir?"

"Well."

"But, after all, they didn't understand it."

"Understand what?"

"The meaning. It opens with the song of the angels, you know. 'Glory be to
God on high; on earth, peace, good will toward men.' They couldn't tell,
coherently, what the Peace and Good Will meant. That's the worst of it.
How can they sing what they don't understand?"

"Surely. Why don't you teach them?"

"Why don't I teach them!" exclaimed the organist. "I'm not a brain-maker;
that's the reason, I suppose."