"Yes, or Burns's Farewell.'"
"'Oft in the Stilly Night,' Miss Simmons—you can sing that."
"Yes, 'Oft in the Stilly Night,'—Miss Simmons," said half-a-dozen voices, and so that was finally chosen. After running her fingers over the keys for a few moments, Miss Simmons started off.
Before she had half finished the first verse, the hum of voices, which had commenced as soon as she began to sing, rose to such a pitch as almost to drown the sound of the instrument. She laboured on through about a verse and a half of the song, when she rose from the piano, and was proceeding to her vacant seat.
"O no!—no!—no!" said half-a-dozen voices at once.
"That will never do-we must have another song."
"Indeed I can't sing to-night, and must be excused," said the lady warmly, and so she was excused. But soon another was chosen to be victimized at the piano, and "will-ye-nill-ye," sing she must. Simultaneous with the sound of the instrument rose the hum of voices, which grew louder and louder, until the performer stopped, discouraged and chagrined.
"That's beautiful! How well you play, Miss Emma!" and Miss Emma was forced to resume the seat she had left half in mortification. All was again still for a moment.
"Can you play the 'Harp and Lute,' Miss Emma?"
"No sir."