"I was born in the Backwoods," say he; "I don't feel the cold." Then jumping into the cutter, he gave me the fiddle to take care of, and pointing with the right finger of his catskin gloves to a solitary house on the top of a bleak hill, nearly a mile a-head, he said, "That white building is the place where the school is held."
We soon reached the spot. "This is the old Methodist church, mister, and a capital place for the voice. There is no furniture or hangings to interrupt the sound. Go right in, while I hitch the mare; I will be arter you in a brace of shakes."
I soon found myself in the body of the old dilapidated church, and subjected to the stare of a number of very unmusical-looking girls and boys, who, certainly from their appearance, would never have led you to suppose that they ever could belong to a Philharmonic society. Presently, Mr. Browne made his debut.
Assuming an air of great importance as he approached his pupils, he said--"Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce to your notice Mr. H---, the celebrated vocalist. He has cum all the way from New York on purpose to hear you sing."
The boys grinned at me and twirled their thumbs, the girls nudged one another's elbows and giggled, while their eloquent teacher continued--
"I don't know as how we shall be able to do much tonight; we upset, and that spilt my fiddle into the snow. You see,"--holding it up--"it's right full of it, and that busted the strings. A dropsical fiddle is no good, no how. Jist look at the water dripping out of her."
Again the boys laughed, and the girls giggled. Said he--
"Hold on, don't laugh; it's no laughing matter, as you'll find."
After a long pause, in which the youngsters tried their best to look grave, he went on--
"Now all of you, girls and boys, give your attention to my instructions this evening. I'm goin' to introduce a new style, for your special benefit, called the Pest-a-lazy (Pestalozzi) system, now all the fashion. If you are all ready, produce your books. Hold them up. One--two--three! Three books for forty pupils? That will never do! We can't sing to-night; well, never mind. You see that black board; I will give you a lesson to-night upon that. Who's got a piece of chalk?"