sing, or
torment a pianner. There are plenty of girls tormentin' pianners now. I
guess you'd better go home, too; it may come on to snow."

Nellie departed angrily and slammed the door. Bear-Tone looked after
her. "Yes," he said, "'tis kind of hard to say that to a girl. Don't
wonder she's a little mad. And yet, that's the kindest thing I can do.
Even in Scripter there was the sheep and the goats; the goats couldn't
sing, and the sheep could; they had to be separated."

He went on testing voices and sending the "goats" home. Some of the
"goats," however, lingered round outside, made remarks and peeped in at
the windows. In an hour their number had grown to eighteen or twenty.

Dreading the ordeal, I slunk into a back seat. I saw my cousin, Addison,
who had a fairly good voice, join the "sheep," and then Theodora, Ellen,
Kate and Thomas; but I could not escape the ordeal forever, and at last
my turn came. When Bear-Tone bade me sing the scale, fear so constricted
my vocal cords that I squealed rather than sang.

"Sonny, there's lots of things a boy can do besides sing," Bear-Tone
said as he laughingly consigned me to the outer darkness. "It's no great
blessing, after all." He patted my shoulder. "I can sing a little, but
I've never been good for much else. So don't you feel bad about it."

But I did feel bad, and, joining the "goats" outside, I helped to
organize a hostile demonstration. We began to march round the
schoolhouse, howling Yankee Doodle. Our discordant noise drew a prompt
response. The door opened and Bear-Tone's huge form appeared.

"In about one harf of one minute more I'll be out there and give ye a
lesson in Yankee Doodle!" he cried, laughing. His tone sounded
good-natured; yet for some reason none of us thought it best to renew
the disturbance.

Most of the "goats" dispersed, but, not wishing to walk home alone, I
hung round waiting for the others. One window of the schoolroom had been
raised, and through that I watched proceedings. Bear-Tone had now tested
all the voices except one, and his face showed that he had not been
having a very pleasant time. Up in the back seat there still remained
one girl, Helen Thomas, who had, according to common report, a rather
good voice; yet she was so modest that few had ever heard her either
sing or recite.

I saw her come forward, when the master beckoned, and sing her do, re,
mi. Bear-Tone, who had stood waiting somewhat apathetically, came
suddenly to a