spoke in the dialogue at the monthly concert.
Look again. Don't you remember me? I used to stub my toe so; you ought
to recollect me by that. I know plenty of people that you know. I may
not always get their names just right, but then it's been a good while
ago. You Il recognize them, though; you'll know them in a minute.

EUGENE WOOD.

BACK HOME

THE OLD RED SCHOOL-HOUSE

Oh, the little old red school-house on the hill,
(2d bass: On the hill.)
Oh, the little old red school-house on the hill,
(2d bass: On the hi-hi-hi-yull)
And my heart with joy o'erflows,
Like the dew-drop in the rose,*
Thinking of the old red SCHOOL-HOUSE I o-o-on the hill,
(2d tenor and 1st bass: The hill, the hill.)

THE MALE QUARTET'S COMPENDIUM.

* I call your attention to the chaste beauty of this line,
and the imperative necessity of the chord of the diminished
seventh for the word "rose." Also "school-house" in the
last line must be very loud and staccato. Snap it off.

If the audience will kindly come forward and occupy the vacant seats
in the front of the hall, the entertainment will now begin. The male
quartet will first render an appropriate selection and then.... Can't
you see them from where you are? Let me assist you in the visualization.

The first tenor, the gentleman on the extreme left, is a stocky little
man, with a large chest and short legs conspicuously curving inward. He
has plenty of white teeth, ash-blonde hair, and goes smooth-shaven for
purely personal reasons. His round, dough-colored face will never look
older (from a distance) than it did when he was nine. The flight of
years adds only deeper creases in the multitude of fine wrinkles, and
increasing difficulty in hoisting his tiny, patent-leather foot up on
his plump knee.

The second tenor leans toward him in a way to make another man anxious
about his watch, but the second tenor is as honest as the day. He is
only "blending the voices." He works in the bank. He is going to be
married in June sometime. Don't look around right away, but she's the
one in the pink shirt-waist, the second one from the aisle, the one...
two... three... the sixth row back. See her? Say, they've got it bad,
those two. What d' ye think? She goes down by the bank every day at
noon, so as to walk up with him to luncheon. She lives across the
street, and as s