“Yes, I recollect,” said he; “but I fell asleep at last.”
“Yes, you refused to sing any more, and went off in a loud snore.”
Jackson got out of his bed-place, and I gave him his meal. We talked during the whole day about singing, and I hummed the air which had pleased me most.
“You have got the air pretty correct,” said he; “you must have an ear for music. Have you ever tried to sing?”
“No, never; you know I have not.”
“You might have tried when I was not with you. Try now. I will sing a tune, and then do you repeat it after me.”
He did so, and I repeated it.
“Very good,” said he. “Let’s try the compass of your voice.”
He ran up the gamut, and I followed him.
“I think you can go higher than I can,” said he; “however, you go quite high enough, so now I’ll give you a singing lesson.”