The San Francisco call., 1903-12-20

~
1 and oval faces. They tip their
heads back and 70 the side and
there Is usually a broad beam Of light
falling across their little official
nighties.
But Edgar was not that kind. So
greatly aid he differ. IN fact, that even
the ehoirmaster was deceived and dis
covered him with dificulty. When the
gentleman confronted them in the par
ish house a mob OF suspicious little
boys, showing, growing. snickering and
otherwise fulfilling their natures, he
promptly selected Tim Mullaly, who
possessed 20 an amazing degree the
violet eyes and the dropping mouth and
the oval face, as his first soprano.
But Tim refused to sing the scale
alone, and as the others scorned ac-
compsnying him in this exercise Mr..
Fellows. determinedly patient. suggest
ed IN the hilarious "cOme-on-boys
fashion consecrated to childhood by
adults that they should all join in some
popular melody to timber them UP and
dispeI their uneasiness.
What shall we sing?" he called out
breezily from the piano stool, family
indicating a ''ragtime" rhythm with his
left hand.
Hot time'" burst from one OF the
youngsters.
'All rightl" and the inviting melody
drew them in; soon they were shouting
Justify. Raucous altos, nasal sopranos,
70 has -af
any rate, they were started. The verse
was over. the chorus had begun, when
a sudden sound sent the choirmasters
heart TO his throat, his hands left the
keys. Into the medley Of coarse boyish
shouting dropped a silvery thread Of
purest song. a very bird note. For
moment Il flowed on the level Of the
chorus, then suddenly. with an indie
scribable leap, a slurring rush. 1t rose
TO an octave above and led them all.
The choirmaster twirled around on the
stool
Who's that? Which boy is singing
up there?" he demanded excitedly.
There was no reply. They grinned con-
sciously at each other; one could i'm
agine them all guilty.
Come, come. boys! Don't be silly
who was it?"
Silence OF the most sepulchral sort.
Mr.. Fellows shrugged his shoulders,
swung round again and started the sec
oud verse. They dashed through it
noisIly; he picked out here and there
a sweet little treble. one real alto But
his ears were pricked for something
better. and presently it came. The
rhythm was too enticing:
Please. oh, please. Oh don't you let me fall
BY George, he's a human blackbird."
You're all mine. an love you best Of all
That's high c."
An you mus be my man, r I'll have no man
The choirmaster burst into a Joyous
II somewhat reedy tenor.
Thsrs'u be q hot time in the old town tonight!
He whirled about, still singing, and
caught the ecstatic, dreamy gaze Of
Tim Mullaly.
IT'S you!" he cried. pouncing on
j him. Tim giggled feebly.
Yes, sir" he said.
Now sing this scale and I'll give you
i've cents"
An envious sigh quavered through the
parish hall
Tim threw back his head and opened
his dropping mouth
do. re"
There was a fash Of blue gingham,
q snarl OF rage, a sound as of fifty
mounds Of small boy suddenly seated
on the floor.
where's yer a. cents?" a new voice
inquired easily.
The choirmaster perceived with
smazement that the owner Of the
voice. a freckled boy with an exceed
fnelv retrousse nose, was sitting on
the PROSTATE Tim
What's the meaning Of this? Get
upl" he said sternly. What's your
name? can't have any Of this sort
Of thing IN my choir!
The freclcIed boy did not rise. In
fact he seated himself more comfort
ablv on Master Mullaly and demand
ed again:
where's yer a cents?"
The choirmaster stepped forward
and seized the offenders collar As
his fingers tightened the captive burst
into the chorus Of the moment before
III was the blackbird's vo.cei So OBJ
stinate was the choirmaster's first i'm
pression that he looked instinctively
at the fallen Tim TO catch the notes,
but Tim was struggling meekly but
firmly for breath. and this free trill-
fnr came from above him. The choir
master relaxed his hold
1T was you all the time." he said IN
q stupor OF surprise.