together.
He got no quarter, even from Mary--but then Mary was one of those
inconvenient people to whom it mattered not a jot what a fool you made
of yourself, as long as you did what was asked of you. And so, from
memory and unaccompanied, he played them the old familiar air of THE
MINSTREL BOY. The theme, in his rendering, was overlaid by florid
variations and cumbered with senseless repetitions; but, none the less,
the wild, wistful melody went home, touching even those who were not
musical to thoughtfulness and retrospect. The most obstinate
chatterers, whom neither sham battles nor Balfe and Blockley had
silenced, held their tongues; and Mrs. Devine openly wiped her eyes.

O, THE MINSTREL BOY TO THE WARS HAS GONE!
IN THE RANKS OF DEATH YOU'LL FIND HIM.

While it was proceeding, Mary found herself seated next John. John
tapped his foot in time to the tune; and under cover of the applause at
its close remarked abruptly: "You should fatten Richard up a bit, Mary.
He could stand it."

From where they sat they had Richard in profile, and Mary studied her
husband critically, her head a little on one side. "Yes, he IS rather
thin. But I don't think he was ever meant to be fat."

"Ah well! we are none of us as young as we used to be," was John's
tribute to the power of music. And throwing out his stomach, he leaned
back in his chair and plugged the armholes of his vest with his thumbs.

And now, after due pressing on the part of host and hostess, the other
members of the company advanced upon the piano, either singly or in
couples, to bear a hand in the burden of entertainment. Their seeming
reluctance had no basis in fact; for it was an unwritten law that every
one who could must add his mite; and only those who literally had "not
a note of music in them" were exempt. Tilly took a mischievous pleasure
in announcing bluntly: "So sorry, my dear, not to be able to do you a
tool-de-rool! But when the Honourable Mrs. T. and I were nippers we'd
no time to loll round pianos, nor any pianos to loll round!"--this,
just to see her brother-in-law's dark scowl; for no love--not even a
liking--was lost between her and John. But with this handful of
exceptions all nobly toed the line. Ladies with the tiniest reeds of
voices, which shook like reeds, warbled of Last Roses and Prairie
Flowers; others, with more force but due decorum, cried to Willie that
they had Missed Him, or coyly confessed to the presence of Silver
Threads