Then the colors were presented to us by the Rev.Mr.French, a chaplain who brought them from the donors in New York.

All this was according to the programme.

Then followed an incident so simple, so touching, so utterly unexpected and startling, that I can scarcely believe it on recalling, though it gave the keynote to the whole day.

The very moment the speaker had ceased, and just as I took and waved the flag, which now for the first time meant anything to these poor people, there suddenly arose, close beside the platform, a strong male voice (but rather cracked and elderly), into which two women's voices instantly blended, singing, as if by an impulse that could no more be repressed than the morning note of the song-sparrow .-- "My Country, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, Of thee I sing!" People looked at each other, and then at us on the platform, to see whence came this interruption, not set down in the bills.

Firmly and irrepressibly the quavering voices sang on, verse after verse; others of the colored people joined in; some whites on the platform began, but I motioned them to silence.