Rhythm will be teaching
them newfangled notions. You know, Judge, that I hate flummididdles; I
go for the good old things, sir. The old tunes which have stood the wear
and tear of time, and the good old style of singing, sir."

Mr. Quaver did not say all he thought, for he could see that, if the
singing-school was kept, he would be in danger of losing his position as
chorister. But, notwithstanding his opposition, Mr. Rhythm was engaged
to teach the school. Paul determined to attend. He loved music.

"You haven't any coat fit to wear," said his mother. "I have altered
over your grandfather's pants and vest for you, but I cannot alter his
coat. You will have to stay at home, I guess."

"I can't do that, mother, for Mr. Rhythm is one of the best teachers
that ever was, and I don't want to miss the chance. I'll wear grandpa's
coat just as it is."

"The school will laugh at you."

"Well, let them laugh, I sha'n't stay at home for that. I guess I can
stand it," said Paul, resolutely.

The evening fixed upon for the school to commence arrived. All the young
folks in the town were there. Those who lived out of the village,--the
farmers' sons and daughters,--came in red, yellow, and green wagons. The
girls wore close-fitting hoods with pink linings, which they called
"kiss-me-if-ye-dares." Their cheeks were all aglow with the excitement
of the occasion. When they saw Mr. Rhythm, how pleasant and smiling he
was,--when they heard his voice, so sweet and melodious,--when they saw
how spryly he walked, as if he meant to accomplish what he had
undertaken,--they said to one another, "How different he is from Mr.
Quaver!"

Paul was late on the first evening; for when he put on his grandfather's
coat, his mother planned a long while to see if there was not some way
by which she could make it look better. Once she took the shears and was
going to cut off the tail, but Paul stopped her. "I don't want it
curtailed, mother."

"It makes you look like a little old man, Paul; I wouldn't go."

"If I had better clothes, I should wear them, mother; but as I haven't,
I shall wear these. I hope to earn money enough some time to get a
better coat; but grandpa wore this, and I am not ashamed to wear what he
wore," he replied, more resolute than ever. Perhaps, if he could have
seen how he looked, he would not have been quite so determined, for the
sleeves hung like bags on his arms, and the tail almost touched the
floor.

Mr. Rhythm had