of music burst forth. It didn't happen
this way many times, because the paid singers were supposed to do the
greater part of the work. And the others were willing.

At one point, after a breathing spell--or a rest, as musicians say--the
tenor started alone. He didn't mean to. But by this break the deacons
discovered that he was in the game and earning his salary. The others
caught him at the first quarter, however, and away they went again, neck
and neck. Before they finished, several had changed places. Sometimes
"Abide" was ahead, and sometimes "Lord," but on the whole it was a
pretty even thing.

Then the minister--he drew a salary, also--read something out of the
Bible, after which--as they say in the newspapers--"there was another
well-rendered selection by the choir."

This spasm was a tenor solo with chorus accompaniment. This was when he
of the long neck got in his deadly work. The audience faced the choir
and the salaried soloist was happy.

When the huddling had ceased, the soloist stepped a trifle to the front
and, with the confidence born of a man who stands pat on four aces, gave
a majestic sweep of his head toward the organist. He said nothing, but
the movement implied, "Let 'er go, Gallagher."

Gallagher was on deck and after getting his patent leather shoes well
braced on the sub-bass pedals, he knotted together a few chords, and the
soloist was off. His selection was--that is, _verbatim_,

"Ge-yide me, ge-yide me, ge-yide me, O-,
Thor-or gra-ut Jaw-aw-hars-vah,
Pi-il-grum thraw-aw this baw-aw-raw-en larnd."

And he sang other things.

He was away up in G. He diminuendoed, struck a cantable movement, slid
up over a crescendo, tackled a second ending by mistake--but it
went--caught his second wind on a moderato, signified his desire for a
raise in salary on a trill, did some brilliant work on a maestoso,
reached high C with ease, went down into the bass clef and climbed out
again, quavered and held, did sixteen notes by the handful--payable on
demand--waltzed along a minor passage, gracefully turned the dal segno,
skipped a chromatic run, did the con expressione act worthy of a De
Reszke, poured forth volumes on a measure bold, broke the centre of an
andante passage for three yards, retarded to beat the band, came near
getting applause on a cadenza, took a six-barred triplet without turning
a hair--then sat down.

Between whiles the chorus had been singing something else. The notes
bum