and turn but don't hum.

Once more, sir, come down to the lower storey--that is to the Morgiana
story--with which the above sentences have no more to do than this
morning's leading article in The Times; only it was at this house of
Sir George Thrum's that I met Morgiana. Sir George, in old days, had
instructed some of the female members of our family, and I recollect
cutting my fingers as a child with one of those attenuated green-handled
knives in the queer box yonder.

In those days Sir George Thrum was the first great musical teacher
of London, and the royal patronage brought him a great number of
fashionable pupils, of whom Lady Fitz-Boodle was one. It was a long long
time ago: in fact, Sir George Thrum was old enough to remember persons
who had been present at Mr. Braham's first appearance, and the old
gentleman's days of triumph had been those of Billington and Incledon,
Catalani and Madame Storace.

He was the author of several operas ("The Camel Driver," "Britons
Alarmed; or, the Siege of Bergen-op-Zoom," etc. etc.), and, of course,
of songs which had considerable success in their day, but are forgotten
now, and are as much faded and out of fashion as those old carpets which
we have described in the professor's house, and which were, doubtless,
very brilliant once. But such is the fate of carpets, of flowers, of
music, of men, and of the most admirable novels--even this story will
not be alive for many centuries. Well, well, why struggle against Fate?

But, though his heyday of fashion was gone, Sir George still held his
place among the musicians of the old school, conducted occasionally
at the Ancient Concerts and the Philharmonic, and his glees are
still favourites after public dinners, and are sung by those old
bacchanalians, in chestnut wigs, who attend for the purpose of amusing
the guests on such occasions of festivity. The great old people at
the gloomy old concerts before mentioned always pay Sir George marked
respect; and, indeed, from the old gentleman's peculiar behaviour to his
superiors, it is impossible they should not be delighted with him, so he
leads at almost every one of the concerts in the old-fashioned houses in
town.

Becomingly obsequious to his superiors, he is with the rest of the world
properly majestic, and has obtained no small success by his admirable
and undeviating respectability. Respectability has been his great card
through life; ladies can trust their daughters at Sir Geor