his mind in regard to the price.

Russell's joy in the organ was unbounded, and the mother was more than
repaid for her extra work by his pleasure and delight. He immediately
plunged unaided into the study of music, and he never gave up until he
was complete master of the organ. His was no half-hearted love. The
work and drudgery connected with practising never daunted him. He kept
steadily at it until he could roll out the familiar songs and
hymns while the small room fairly rang with their melody. He also
improvised, composing both words and music, a gift that went with him
into the ministry and which has given the membership of Grace Baptist
Church, Philadelphia, many beautiful hymns and melodies.

Later he learned the bass viol, violoncello and cornet, and made money
by playing for parties and entertainments in his neighborhood. Years
afterward, when pastor of Grace Church, and with the Sunday School
on an excursion to Cape May, he saw a cornet lying on a bench on the
pier. Seized with a longing to play again this instrument of his
boyhood, he picked it up and began softly a familiar air. Soon lost to
his surroundings, he played on and on. At last remembering where he
was, he laid down the instrument and walked away. The owner, who had
returned, followed him and offered him first five dollars and then ten
to play that night for a dance at Congress Hall.

Martin Conwell, during Russell's boyhood days, carefully guarded his
son from being spoiled by the flattery of neighbors and friends. He
realized that Russell was a boy in many ways above the average, but
his practical common sense prevented him from taking such pride in
Russell's various achievements as to let him become spoiled and
conceited. Many a whipping Russell received for the personal songs he