Life in the Clearings versus the Bush Part 13

"Now," thought I, "what is this clever fellow going to do?"

The boys winked at each other, and a murmur of suppressed laughter ran through the old church. Jenkins ran out, and soon returned with a lump of snow.

Mr. Browne took a small piece, and squeezing it tight, stuck it upon the board. "Now, boys, that is Do, and that is Re, and that is Do again, and that is Mi, this Do, and that Fa; and that, boys, is a part of what we call a _scale_." Then turning to a tall, thin, shabby-looking man, very much out at the elbows, whom I had not seen before, he said--"Mr.

Smith, how is your _base viol?_ Hav'nt you got it tuned up yet?"

Well, squire, I guess it's complete."

"Hold on; let me see," and taking a tuning-fork from his pocket, and giving it a sharp thump upon the stove, he cried out in a still louder key--"Now, that's A; jist tune up to A."

After Mr. Smith had succeeded in tuning his instrument, the teacher proceeded with his lucid explanations:--"Now, boys, start fair; give a grand chord. What sort of a noise do you call that? (giving a luckless boy a thump over the head with his fiddle-stick). You bray through your nose like a jacka.s.s. I tell you to quit; I don't want discord." The boy slunk out of the cla.s.s, and stood blubbering behind the door.

"Tune up again, young shavers! Sing the notes as I have made them on the board,--Do, re-do, mi, do-fa. Now, when I count four commence.

One--two--three--four. Sing! Hold on!--hold on! Don't you see that all the notes are running off, and you can't sing running notes yet."

Here he was interrupted by the noise of some one forcing their way into the church, in a very strange and unceremonious manner, and

"The chorister's song, that late was so strong, Grew a quaver of consternation."

The door burst open, and a ghastly head was protruded through the aperture. "A ghost!--a ghost!" shrieked out all the children in a breath; and jumping over the forms, they huddled around the stove, upsetting the solitary tallow candle, the desk, and the ba.s.s viol, in their flight. One lad sprang right upon the unfortunate instrument, which broke to pieces with a terrible crash. We were now left in the dark. The girls screamed, and clung round me for protection, while the ghastly apparition continued to stare upon us through the gloom, with its large, hollow eyes, I must confess that I felt rather queer; but I wisely kept my fears to myself, while I got as far from the door as I possibly could. Just as our terror had reached a climax, the grizzly phantom uttered a low, whining neigh.

"It's the old mare! I'll be darned if it isn't!" cried one of the older boys, at the top of his voice. This restored confidence to the rest; and one rather bolder than his comrades at length ventured to relight the fallen candle at the stove, and holding it up, displayed to our view the old white mare, standing in the doorway. The poor beast had forced her way into the porch to protect herself from the cold; and she looked at her master, as much as to say, "I have a standing account against you." No doubt her sudden intrusion had been the means of shortening her term of probation by at least half an hour, and of bringing the singing-school to a close. She had been the innocent cause of disabling both the musical instruments, and Mr. Browne could not raise a correct note without them. Turning to his pupils, with a very rueful countenance, and speaking in a very unmusical voice, but very expressive withal, he said--"Ch.o.r.e (meaning choir), you are dimissed.

But, hold on!--don't be in such a darnation hurry to be off. I was a-going to tell you, this ere gentleman, Mr. H--- (my name, for a wonder, poppping into his head at that minute) is to give a _con-sort_ to-morrow night. It was to have been to-night; but he changed his mind that he might have the pleasure of hearing you. I shall a.s.sist Mr. H--- in the singing department; so you must all be sure to c.u.m. Tickets for boys over ten years, twenty-five cents; under ten, twelve and a half cents. So you _leetle_ chaps will know what to do. The next time the school meets will be when the fiddles are fixed. Now scamper." The children were not long in obeying the order. In the twinkling of an eye they were off, and we heard them shouting and sky-larking in the lane.

"c.u.m, Mr. H---," said the music-master, b.u.t.toning his great-coat up to his chin, "let us be a-goin'."

On reaching the spot where we had left the cutter, to our great disappointment, we found only one-half of it remaining; the other half, broken to pieces, strewed the ground. Mr. Browne detained me for another half-hour, in gathering together the fragments. "Now you, Mr. Smith, you take care of the crippled fiddles, while I take care of the bag of oats.

The old mare has been trying to hook them out of the cutter, which has been the cause of all the trouble. You, Mr. H---, mount up on the old jade, and take along the bull's hide, and we will follow on foot."

"Yes," said I, "and glad of the chance, for I am cold and tired."

Not knowing a step of the way, I let Mr. Browne and his companion go a-head; and making a sort of pack-saddle of the old hide, I curled myself up on the back of the old mare, and left her to her own pace, which, however, was a pretty round trot, until we reached the outskirts of the town, where, dismounting, I thanked my companions, very insincerely I'm afraid, for my evening's amus.e.m.e.nt, and joined my friends at the hotel, who were never tired of hearing me recount my adventures at the singing-school.

I had been obliged to postpone my own concert until the next evening, for I found the borrowed piano such a poor one, and so miserably out of tune, that it took me several hours rendering it at all fit for service.

Before I had concluded my task, I was favoured with the company of Mr.

Browne, who stuck to me closer than a brother, never allowing me out of his sight for a moment. This persevering attention, so little in unison with my feelings, caused me the most insufferable annoyance. A thousand times I was on the point of dismissing him very unceremoniously, by informing him that I thought him a most conceited, impertinent puppy; but for the sake of my friend Roberts, who was in some way related to the fellow, I contrived to master my anger. About four o'clock he jumped up from the table, at which he had been lounging and sipping hot punch at my expense for the last hour, exclaiming--

"I guess it's time for me to see the pee-a-ne carried up to the con-sort room."

"It's all ready," said I. "Perhaps, Mr. Browne, you will oblige me by singing a song before the company arrives, that I may judge how far your style and mine will agree;" for I began to have some horrible misgivings on the subject. "If you will step upstairs, I will accompany you on the piano. I had no opportunity of hearing you sing last night."

"No, no," said he, with a conceited laugh; "I mean to astonish you by and by. I'm not one of your common amateurs, no how. I shall produce quite a sensation upon your audience."

So saying, he darted through the door, and left me to finish my arrangements for the night.

The hour appointed for the concert at length arrived. It was a clear, frosty night, the moon s.h.i.+ning as bright as day. A great number of persons were collected about the doors of the hotel, and I had every reason to expect a full house. I was giving some directions to my door-keeper, when I heard a double sleigh approaching at an uncommon rate; and looking up the road, I saw an old-fas.h.i.+oned, high-backed vehicle, drawn by two shabby-looking horses, coming towards the hotel at full gallop. The pa.s.sengers evidently thought that they were too late, and were making up for lost time.

The driver was an old farmer, and dressed in the cloth of the country, with a large capote of the same material drawn over his head and weather-beaten face, which left his sharp black eyes, red nose, and wide mouth alone visible. He flourished in his hand a large whip of raw hide, which ever and anon descended upon the backs of his rawboned cattle like the strokes of a flail.

"Get up--go along--waye," cried he, suddenly drawing up at the door of the hotel. "Well, here we be at last, and jist in time for the con-sort." Then hitching the horses to the post, and flinging the buffalo robes over them, he left the three females he was driving in the sleigh, and ran directly up to me,--"Arn't you the con-sort man?

I guess you be, by them ere black pants and Sunday-goin' gear."

I nodded a.s.sent.

"What's the damage?"

"Half a dollar."

"Half a dollar? You don't mean to say that!"

"Not a cent less."

"Well, it will be _expensive_. There's my wife and two darters, and myself; and the galls never seed a con-sort."

"Well," said I, "as there are four of you, you may come in at a dollar and a half."

"How; a dollar and a harf! I will go and have a talk with the old woman, and hear what she says to it."

He returned to the sleigh, and after chatting for a few minutes with the women, he helped them out, and the four followed me into the common reception room of the inn. The farmer placed a pail of b.u.t.ter on the table, and said with a shrewd curl of his long nose, and a wink from one of his cunning black eyes, "There's some pretty good b.u.t.ter, mister."

I was amused at the idea, and replied, "Pretty good b.u.t.ter! What is that to me? I do not buy b.u.t.ter."

"Not buy b.u.t.ter! Why you don't say! It is the very best article in the market jist now."

For a bit of fun I said,--"Never mind; I will take your b.u.t.ter. What is it worth?"

"It was worth ten cents last week, mister; I don't know what it's worth now. It can't have fallen, no-how."

I took my knife from my pocket, and in a very business-like manner proceeded to taste the article. "Why," said I, "this b.u.t.ter is not good."

Here a sharp-faced woman stepped briskly up, and poking her head between us, said, at the highest pitch of her cracked voice,--"Yes, it is good; it was made this morning _express-ly_ for the _con-sort_."

"I beg your pardon, madam. I am not in the habit of buying b.u.t.ter. To oblige you, I will take this. How much is there of it?"

"I don't know. Where are your steelyards?"

"Oh," said I, laughing, "I don't carry such things with me. I will take it at your own valuation, and you may go in with your family."

"'Tis a bargain," says she. "Go in, galls, and fix yourselves for the _con-sort_."

As the room was fast filling, I thought it time to present myself to the company, and made my entrance, accompanied by that incorrigible pest, the singing master, who, without the least embarra.s.sment, took his seat by the piano. After singing several of my best songs, I invited him to try his skill.

"Oh, certainly," said he; "to tell you the truth, I am a _leetle_ su rprised that you did not ask me to lead off."

"I would have done so; but I could not alter the arrangement of the programme."

"Ah, well, I excuse you this time, but it was not very polite, to say the least of it." Then, taking my seat at the piano with as much confidence as Braham ever had, he run his hand over the keys, exclaiming "What shall I sing? I will give you one of Russell's songs; they suit my voice best. Ladies and gentlemen, I am going to favour you by singing Henry Russell's celebrated song, 'I love to roam,' and accompany myself upon the pee-a-ne-forty."