"Any other musical organizations around here?" the colonel persisted.
"Sir?—No, sir," answered Sube. "But—"
"But what, my lad?" asked the colonel, noting Sube's apparent modesty.
"Nuthin'; but I was jus' wonderin'," mumbled Sube, "if you played in the Rochester band."
As the colonel rather frigidly replied that he most distinctly did not, Sube was nervously forced into the background by his parents, and a moment later was as unostentatiously as possible elbowed into the house.
Two o'clock saw the whole town in the opera house. Three-thirty saw them emerging red-eyed and melting. Three-forty saw the parade in process of formation and nearly ready to move.
The First Division was led by the hearse containing the mortal remains of Captain Roy, flanked on either side by an escort of G. A. R. veterans. Immediately behind the hearse was the Silver Cornet Band; and following close on the heels of the band were two carriages of chief mourners. Then came in order, the G. A. R. veterans bearing their tattered regimental colors; a carriage with Colonel Smythe, Mr. and Mrs. Cane, and the Village President; carriages filled with Village Trustees, Street and Sewer Commissioners, and the Committee on Arrangements wearing fluttering decorations on their breasts; and other prominent citizens in carriages.
The Second Division was made up of the local fire companies led by the Henderson Drum Corps.
Every man, woman and child in the township who was able to walk was eligible for the Third Division, and most of them were there.
While the parade was forming, Grand Marshal Richards from the back of his trusty charger discovered far back in the crowd a martial band to which no place had been assigned, and promptly dispatched one of his aides to conduct them to the head of the Third Division. As the strange band fell in line bystanders noted with interest the name on the head of the bass drum: