While the Professor was addressing the audience, Quincy had whispered
something in Deacon Mason's ear which caused the latter to smile and nod
his head approvingly. Quincy arose and reached the Professor's side just
as the latter finished speaking and turned towards the chorus. Quincy
said something in a low tone to the Professor which caused Mr. Strout to
shake his head in the negative in a most pronounced manner. Quincy spoke
again and looked towards Miss Putnam, who was seated in the front row,
and whose face wore a somewhat disappointed look.

Again the Professor shook his head by way of negation and the words, "It
can't be did," were distinctly audible to the majority of both singing
society and audience, at the same time a look of contempt spread over
the singing-master's face. Quincy perceived it and was nettled by it. He
was not daunted, however, nor to be shaken from his purpose, so he said
in a loud voice, which was heard in all parts of the hall: "I know the
song, and will sing it if Miss Putnam and the audience are willing."

With a smile upon her face, Miss Putnam nodded her acquiescence. All the
townspeople had heard of Quincy's liberality in providing a hot supper
for the sleighing party the night before, and cries of "Go ahead! Give
him a chance! We want to hear him!" and "Don't disappoint Miss Putnam,"
were heard from all parts of the hall. The Professor was obliged to give
in. He sat down with a disgusted look upon his face, and from that
moment war to the knife was declared between these champions of city and
country civilization.

Mr. Sawyer went to the piano, opened Miss James's copy of the music and
placed it upon the music rack before her, saying a few words to her
which caused her to smile. Quincy then approached Lindy, opened her
music at the proper place and passed it to her. Next he took her hand
and led her to the front of the platform. These little acts of courtesy
and politeness, performed in an easy, graceful, and self-possessed
manner, were seen by all and won a round of applause.

The duet was beautifully sung. Quincy had a fine well-trained tenor
voice, while Miss Putnam's mezzo-soprano was full and melodious and her
rendition fully as artistic as that of her companion. One, two, three,
four, five, six encores followed each other in quick succession, in
spite of Professor Strout's endeavors to quell the applause and take up
the next number. The ovation given earlier in the evening to