“I can promise you I won’t break down, sir.”
“Then I’ll give you a trial. Are you ready to appear at once?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Wait, then, till I announce you.”
The professor came from behind the screen, and, addressing the audience, said: “Ladies and gentlemen, lest you should find the necessary intermission tedious, I am happy to announce to you that the young vocalist, Master Harry Vane, has kindly consented to favor you with one of his popular melodies. He has selected by request, ‘The Last Rose of Summer.’”
Harry could hardly refrain from laughing when he heard this introduction.
“One would think I was a well-known singer,” he said to himself.
He came forward, and, standing before the audience, with his face a little flushed, made a graceful bow. Then, pausing an instant, he commenced the song announced. He had not sung two lines before the professor, who waited the result with some curiosity and some anxiety, found that he could sing. His voice was high, clear, and musical, and his rendition was absolutely correct. The fact was, Harry had taken lessons in a singing school at home, and had practiced privately also, so that he had reason to feel confidence in himself.
The song was listened to with earnest attention and evident enjoyment by all. When the last strain died away, and Harry made his farewell bow, there was an enthusiastic burst of applause, emphasized by the clapping of hands and the stamping of feet.
“You did yourself proud, my boy!” said the gratified Professor. “They want you on again.”