from the little stand which served as pulpit for the preachers
on Sundays, and casually remarked, "We kinda look to the high singers to
help us through, to pitch the tune and carry it. Too bad"--he squinted
again toward the gathering--"that Drusilla Osborn is not here. Dru is a
extra fine singer. A fine note-singer is Dru. Takes after the Osborns.
Any of you heard if Osborns' folks have got sickness?"

A titter passed over the singing school and just then Tizzie Scaggs,
leering at Dru, piped out, "Why, yonder's Dru Osborn in the back seat!"

The tittering raised to a snicker and Philomel Whiffet, too
flabbergasted to call out Drusilla's name and send her to her own seat
with the sopranos where she belonged, turned quickly his back to the
school and fumbled in his pocket. He brought forth a piece of charred
wood, for chalk was a rarity on Pigeon Creek, and began to set down on
the rough log wall a measure of music. In shaped notes, for round notes
had not yet made their way into Philomel Whiffet's singing school.
Painstakingly he set down the symbols, some like little triangles,
others square, until he had completed a staff. Nor did he face the
school again until all the tittering had subsided. Then with the same
charred stick he drew a mark on the floor and called for sopranos, alto,
bass, and tenor to toe the mark.

Drusilla Osborn was first, then Lettie Burley, an alto, came next. Tom
Jameson, the tenor, and Felix Rideout, who couldn't be beat singing
bass, stood in a row careful-as-you-please to see that they kept a
straight line, toes to the mark, shoulders back, chests expanded. They
sang the scale through twice--forward and backward, bowed to the singing
master, then went back to their seats. It was a never-changing form to
which Philomel Whiffet clung as an example for the whole school to
follow should they be called to toe the mark. A fine way to show all how
a singer should rightly stand and rightly sing.

"Now, scholars," Whiffet brushed the black from his fingers, having
replaced the charred stick in his pocket, "lend attention!" Taking the
tuning fork from his waistcoat pocket, he looked thoughtfully at the
school. "Being as this singing school is drawing to a close, seems to me
we should review all we can this evening." He paused. "Now all that feel
the urge can take occasion to clear their throats before we start in."

Not one spurned the invitation, and when the raucous noise subsided
Philomel Whiffe