Their noise and clatter is in my ears a song of praise, and very often the men and women who work at them are singing grandly to this accompaniment.

Sometimes I join in their song, as I walk among them, for the Great Master hears as well as sees, and though these looms are almost alive in their marvelous skill, it may be that He is pleased to hear the little human note mingling with the voices of the clattering, humming, burring looms." "To be sure He is.

The song of labor is His, and I hev no doubt it is quite as sweet in His ear as the song of praise.

Your song is among the looms, and mine is among the winds and waves, but they are both the same, sir.

It is all right.