Grace Harlowe's Third Year at Overton College

Now, then, everyone join in the chorus, commanded Hippy Wingate. There was an answering tinkle from Reddy's mandolin, the deeper notes of a guitar sounded, then eight care-free young voices were raised in the plaintive chorus of My Old Kentucky Home.
It was a warm night in September. Miriam Nesbit and seven of the Eight Originals were spending a last evening together on the Harlowes' hospitable veranda. They were on the eve of separation. The following day would witness Nora's and Jessica's departure for the conservatory. Grace and Miriam would return to Overton at the beginning of the next week, and the latter part of the same week would find the four young men entered upon their senior year in college.
Very fine, indeed, commented Hippy, but in order to sing properly one ought to drink a great deal of lemonade. It is very conducive to a grand opera voice, he added, confiscating several cakes from the plate Grace passed to him and holding out his empty lemonade glass.
But you haven't a grand opera voice, protested David. That is only a flimsy excuse.
We won't discuss the matter in detail, returned Hippy with dignity. I am prepared to prove the truth of what I say. I will now render a selection from 'Il Trovatore.' I will sing the imprisoned lover's song—
Not if I have anything to say about it, growled Reddy.
Suit yourself, suit yourself, declared Hippy, shrugging his shoulders. You boys will be sorry if you don't let me sing, though.
Is that a threat? inquired Tom Gray with pretended belligerence.
A threat? repeated Hippy. No, it is a fact. I am contemplating a terrible revenge. That is, I haven't really begun to contemplate it yet. I am just getting ready. But when I do start—well, you'll see.
I think it would be delightful to hear you sing, 'Ah, I Have Sighed to Rest Me,' Hippy, broke in Nora sweetly, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.