I play on this pee-a-ne a leetle myself, and that ought to be some encouragement to you. I am goin’ to do a considerable business in the singing line here. I have stirred up all the leetle girls and boys in the place, and set them whistling an’ playing on the Jew’s harp. Then I goes to the old ‘uns, and says to them, what genuses for music these young ‘uns be! it is your duty to improve a talent that providence has bestowed on your children. I puts on a long face, like a parson, when I talks of providence and the like o’that, and you don’t know how amazingly it takes with the old folks. They think that providence is allers on the look out to do them some good turn. –

“What do you charge, Mr. Browne?’ says they, instanter.

“Oh, a mere trifle, say I, instanter. Jist half-a-dollar a quarter – part in cash, part in produce.

“‘‘Tis cheap,’ says they agin.

“Tew little, says I, by half.

“‘Well, the children shall go,’ says the old man. ‘Missus, you see to it.’

“The children like to hear themselves called genuses, and they go into it like smoke. When I am tuning my voice at my lodgings in the evening, just by way of recreation, the leetle boys all gets round my winder to listen to my singing. They are so fond of it I can’t get them away. They make such a confounded noise, in trying to imitate my splendid style. But I’ll leave you to judge of that for yourself. ‘S’pose you’ll be up with me to the singing-school, and then you will hear what I can do.”

“I shall be most happy to attend you.”

“You see, Mr. Thing-a-my, this is my first lesson, and you must make all allowances, if there should be any trouble, or that all should not go right. You see one seldom gets the hang of it the first night, no how. I have been farming most of my life, but I quits that about five weeks ago, and have been studying hard for my profession ever since. I have got a large school here, another at A—, and another at L—; and before the winter is over, I shall be qualified to teach at W—. I play the big bass fiddle and the violin right off, and –”

Here a little boy came running up to say that his father’s sheep had got out of the yard, and had gone down to Deacon S—; and, said he, “The folks have sent for you, Mister Browne, to cum and turn ‘em out.”

“A merciful intervention of providence,” thought I, who was already heartily weary of my new acquaintance, and began to be afraid that I never should get rid of him. To tell the truth, I was so tired of looking up at him, that I felt that I could not converse much longer with him without endangering the elasticity of my neck, and he would have been affronted if I had asked him to walk in and sit down.

He was not very well pleased with Deacon S—’s message.

“That comes of borrowing, mister. If I had not asked the loan of the pee-a-ne, they never would have sent for me to look arter their darned sheep. I must go, however. I hope you’ll be able to keep yourself alive in my absence. I have got to string up the old fiddle for to-night. The singing-school is about a mile from this. I will come down with my old mare arter you, when its just time to be a-goin.’ So good-bye.”

Away he strode at the rate of six miles an hour; his long legs accomplishing at one step what would have taken a man of my dimensions three to compass. I then went into the hotel to order dinner for my friends, as he had allowed me no opportunity to do so. The conceited fellow had kept me standing a foot deep in snow for the last hour, while listening to his intolerably dull conversation. My disgust and disappointment afforded great amusement to my friends; but in spite of all my entreaties, they could not be induced to leave their punch and a warm fire to accompany me in my pilgrimage to the singing-school.

We took dinner at four o’clock, and the cloth was scarcely drawn, when my musical friend made his appearance with the old mare, to take me along to the school.

Our turn-out was everything but prepossessing.