That whole scene comes out clearly for me in memory -- the arc of primrose sky over the trees behind the old house , the fruit-laden boughs of the orchard , the bank of golden-rod , like a wave of sunshine , behind the Pulpit Stone , the nameless colour seen on a fir wood in a ruddy sunset . I can see Uncle Alec 's tired , brilliant , blue eyes , Aunt Janet 's wholesome , matronly face , Uncle Roger 's sweeping blond beard and red cheeks , and Aunt Olivia 's full-blown beauty . Two voices ring out for me above all others in the music that echoes through the halls of recollection . Cecily 's sweet and silvery , and Uncle Alec 's fine tenor . `` If you 're a King , you sing , '' was a Carlisle proverb in those days . Aunt Julia had been the flower of the flock in that respect and had become a noted concert singer . The world had never heard of the rest . Their music echoed only along the hidden ways of life , and served but to lighten the cares of the trivial round and common task . That evening , after they tired of singing , our grown-ups began talking of their youthful days and doings . This was always a keen delight to us small fry . We listened avidly to the tales of our uncles and aunts in the days when they , too -- hard fact to realize -- had been children . Good and proper as they were now , once , so it seemed , they had gotten into mischief and even had their quarrels and disagreements . On this particular evening Uncle Roger told many stories of Uncle Edward , and one in which the said Edward had preached sermons at the mature age of ten from the Pulpit Stone fired , as the sequel will show , the Story Girl 's imagination . `` Ca n't I just see him at it now , '' said Uncle Roger , `` leaning over that old boulder , his cheeks red and his eyes burning with excitement , banging the top of it as he had seen the ministers do in church . It was n't cushioned , however , and he always bruised his hands in his self-forgetful earnestness . We thought him a regular wonder . We loved to hear him preach , but we did n't like to hear him pray , because he always insisted on praying for each of us by name , and it made us feel wretchedly uncomfortable , somehow . Alec , do you remember how furious Julia was because Edward prayed one day that she might be preserved from vanity and conceit over her singing ? '' `` I should think I do , '' laughed Uncle Alec . `` She was sitting right there where Cecily is now , and she got up at once and marched right out of the orchard , but at the gate she turned to call back indignantly , ' I guess you 'd better wait till you 've prayed the conceit out of yourself before you begin on me , Ned King .
I never XXXXX such stuck-up sermons as you preach . '
're become comes echoed heard preached realize remember ring seen