up to the influence of that wonderful music. He sat erect and
rigid; his hands in front of him clasped tightly round his stick; and
his eyes fixed on vacancy; and as I looked at him I saw big tears
slowly coursing down his cheeks.

At length the song ceased, and he impatiently dashed his tears away,
and looked furtively and suspiciously around, as though trying to see
if any one had detected his weakness. I, of course, looked away, so
that he had not the smallest reason for supposing that I had seen him.

After this the concert went on through a varied collection of pieces,
and all the time I wondered who the old gentleman with the eagle face
and tender sensibilities might be. And in this state of wonder I
continued until the close.

At last came the usual concluding piece--"God save the Queen."

Of course, as everybody knows, when the national anthem is sung, it is
the fashion all over the British empire for the whole audience to rise,
and any one who remains seated is guilty of a deliberate insult to the
majesty of that empire. On this occasion, as a matter of course,
everybody got up, but I was surprised to see that the old gentleman
remained seated, with his hands clinched tightly about his cane.

I was not the only one who bad noticed this.

The fact is, I had got into a part of the hall which was not altogether
congenial to my taste. I had got my ticket at the door, and found that
all the reserved seats were taken up. Consequently I had to take my
chance among the general public. Now this general public happened to be
an awfully loyal public, and the moment they found that a man was among
them who deliberately kept his seat while the national anthem was being
sung, they began to get into a furious state of excitement.

Let me say also that there was very sufficient reason for this
excitement. All Canada was agog about the Fenians. Blood had been shed.
An invasion had taken place. There was no joke about it. The Fenians
were net an imaginary danger, but a real one. All the newspapers were
full of the subject. By the Fenians every Canadian understood an
indefinite number of the disbanded veteran soldiers of the late
American war, who, having their hand in, were not willing to go back to
the monotony of a peaceful life, but preferred rather a career of
excitement. Whether this suspicion were well founded or not doesn't
make the slightest difference. The effect on the Canadian mind was the
same as if it were t