“I will play the band, for I have very many instruments at my command, and my friend the thunder will play the organ, while you, dear old trees, shall be my violins and harps, and every morning we will practise,” said the wind.
“What do they have next at Chautauqua?” asked a pert blackbird.
“Lectures,” said the fish.
“What are lectures?”
“Talks about things.”
“What things?”
“Oh! evolution and literature and theology and philosophy and art and poetry and science, and a great many other things.”