Whistling the Tune: the Bond of Fellowship

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Oct 9, 1913

Whistling the Tune: the Bond of Fellowship

[Not long ago a young American landed on the shores of Korea to take charge of our mission printing-house in Seoul. Below is an extract from his letter.—Ed.]

On the last day of my trip, en route from Fusan to Seoul, I felt somewhat alone, as none of my fellow-passengers could speak much English. We had not been riding long when some one in the rear of the car began to sing, “I Love to Tell the Story.” I could not understand the words, but knew from the tune what the person was singing. It seemed so good to know that there was some one in this strange land who loved to tell the story of Jesus that I wanted to look him in the face. It turned out to be a young man from Japan; and as he had no objection, I sat down in the seat with him. We could not converse much because of the language, but we could both whistle, and so a happy hour was spent in whistling some of our good old hymns. We took turns starting the tune, and if the other was acquainted with it, he would join in and we would whistle it through. If not, we would try another. It seemed good. One hardly appreciates those good songs when he hears them every day in the home land, but when alone in a strange place like this, he longs for just one strain even of the music.

FRANK MILLS.