l ability.

"Why," he used to exclaim in the sudden bursts of enthusiasm to which
he was subject, "why, these people are the greatest singers on earth.
They've got more emotion and more passion than any other people, and
they learn easier. I could take a chorus of forty of them, and with
two months' training make them sing the roof off the Metropolitan
Opera house."

When Mr. Frye was in New York, he might be seen almost any day at the
piano of one or the other of the negro clubs, either working at some
new inspiration, or playing one of his own compositions, and all black
clubdom looked on him as a genius.

His latest scheme was the training of a colored company which should
do a year's general singing throughout the country, and then having
acquired poise and a reputation, produce his own opera.

It was for this he wanted Silas, and in spite of the warning and
protests of friends, Silas went with him to New York, for he saw his
future loom large before him.

The great city frightened him at first, but he found there some, like
himself, drawn from the smaller towns of the South. Others in the
company were the relics of the old days of negro minstrelsy, and still
others recruited from the church choirs in the large cities. Silas was
an adaptable fellow, but it seemed a little hard to fall in with the
ways of his new associates. Most of them seemed as far away from him
in their knowledge of worldly things as had the waiters at the Springs
a few years before. He was half afraid of the chorus girls, because
they seemed such different beings from the nurse girls down home.
However, there was little time for moping or regrets. Mr. Frye was, it
must be said, an indefatigable worker. They were rehearsing every day.
Silas felt himself learning to sing. Meanwhile, he knew that he was
learning other things--a few more elegancies and vices. He looked upon
the "rounders" with admiration and determined to be one. So, after
rehearsals were over other occupations held him. He came to be known
at the clubs and was quite proud of it, and he grew bolder with the
chorus girls, because he was to be a star.

After three weeks of training, the company opened, and Silas, who had
never sung anything heavier than "Bright Sparkles in the Churchyard,"
was dressed in a Fauntleroy suit, and put on to sing in a scene from
"Rigoletto."

Every night he was applauded to the echo by "the unskilful," until he
came to believe himself a great sing