just rapped the scholars to their seats when Paul
entered. There was a tittering, a giggle, then a roar of laughter. Mr.
Rhythm looked round to see what was the matter, and smiled. For a moment
Paul's courage failed him. It was not so easy to be laughed at as he had
imagined. He was all but ready to turn about and leave the room. "No I
won't, I'll face it out," he said to himself, walking deliberately to a
seat, and looking bravely round, as if asking, "What are you laughing
at?"
There was something in his manner which instantly won Mr. Rhythm's
respect, and which made him ashamed of himself for having laughed.
"Silence! No more laughing," he said; but, notwithstanding the command,
there was a constant tittering among the girls. Mr. Rhythm began by
saying, "We will sing Old Hundred. I want you all to sing, whether you
can sing right or not." He snapped his tuning-fork, and began. The
school followed, each one singing,--putting in sharps, flats, naturals,
notes, and rests, just as they pleased. "Very well. Good volume of
sound. Only I don't think Old Hundred ever was sung so before, or ever
will be again," said the master, smiling.
Michael Murphy was confident that he sang gloriously, though he never
varied his tone up or down. He was ciphering in fractions at school, and
what most puzzled him were the figures set to the bass. He wondered if
6/4 was a vulgar fraction, and if so, he thought it would be better to
express it as a mixed number, 1-1/2.
During the evening, Mr. Rhythm, noticing that Michael sang without any
variation of tone, said, "Now, Master Murphy, please sing _la_ with
me";--and Michael sang bravely, not frightened in the least.
"Very well. Now please sing it a little higher."
"_La_," sang Michael on the same pitch, but louder.
"Not louder, but higher."
"LA!" responded Michael, still louder, but with the pitch unchanged.
There was tittering among the girls.
"Not so, but thus,"--and Mr. Rhythm gave an example, first low, then
high. "Now once more."
"LA!" bellowed Michael on the same pitch.
Daphne Dare giggled aloud, and the laughter, like a train of powder,
ran through the girls' seats over to the boys' side of the house, where
it exploded in a loud haw! haw! Michael laughed with the others, but he
did not know what for.
Recess came. "Halloo, Grandpa! How are you, Old Pensioner? Your coat
puckers under the arms, and there is a wrinkle in the back," said Philip
Funk to Paul. His s
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