The stage was broad, planked, with a
drop-curtain behind,--the Doge marrying the sea, I believe; in front, a
piano and chair.

Presently, Mr. Oliver, a well-natured looking man, (one thought of
that,) came forward, leading and coaxing along a little black boy,
dressed in white linen, somewhat fat and stubborn in build. Tom was
not in a good humor that night; the evening before had refused to play
altogether; so his master perspired anxiously before he could get him
placed in rule before the audience, and repeat his own little speech,
which sounded like a Georgia after-dinner gossip. The boy's head, as
I said, rested on his back, his mouth wide open constantly; his great
blubber lips and shining teeth, therefore, were all you saw when
he faced you. He required to be petted and bought like any other
weak-minded child. The concert was a mixture of music, whining, coaxing,
and promised candy and cake.

He seated himself at last before the piano, a full half-yard distant,
stretching out his arms full-length, like an ape clawing for
food,--his feet, when not on the pedals, squirming and twisting
incessantly,--answering some joke of his master's with a loud "Yha!
yha!" Nothing indexes the brain like the laugh; this was idiotic.

"Now, Tom, boy, something we like from Verdi."

The head fell farther back, the claws began to work, and those of his
harmonies which you would have chosen as the purest exponents of passion
began to float through the room. Selections from Weber, Beethoven, and
others whom I have forgotten, followed. At the close of each piece,
Tom, without waiting for the audience, would himself applaud violently,
kicking, pounding his hands together, turning always to his master
for the approving pat on the head. Songs, recitations such as I have
described, filled up the first part of the evening; then a musician from
the audience went upon the stage to put the boy's powers to the final
test. Songs and intricate symphonies were given, which it was most
improbable the boy could ever have heard; he remained standing,
utterly motionless, until they were finished, and for a moment or two
after,--then, seating himself, gave them without the break of a
note. Others followed, more difficult, in which he played the bass
accompaniment in the manner I have described, repeating instantly the
treble. The child looked dull, wearied, during this part of the trial,
and his master, perceiving it, announced the exhibition closed