"Oh yes, indeed," replied Mrs. Martin, drawing Patty close to her. "We must have some, of course; they are so good for making boys and girls conquer shyness and nervousness and consciousness. At first you should select simple songs of limited range, with attractive flowing melodies. You will find plenty of just this kind among the works of Gounod, Abt, Ries, Cowen, Sullivan, Curschman, Kücken, Fesca, Tosti, and Bohm. Brahms's 'Lullaby' is a charming and easy bit of singing; so is Ries's 'Cradle Song.' Those by Adalbert Goldschmidt and Gerrit Smith are pretty also. Indeed, slumber songs lend themselves admirably to early efforts in solo work. Other song writers to whom you may look for furnishing the best material are Jensen, Eckert, Lachner, Taubert, Bemberg, Gumbert, Goring-Thomas, Bizet, Lassen, Delibes, Widor, Arditi, Mattei, Godard, Saint-Saëns, Massenet, and so on, up to the classic heights of Rubinstein, Mendelssohn, Liszt, Schubert, Schumann, Grieg, and Brahms. Of extreme modern writers who make pleasing music you can rely on Chaminade, Nevin, Neidlinger, Bartlett, Johns, and Pizzi. Of course among these names you will not find many opera-composers, for I have only cared to mention the makers of songs. I will tell you something else, a little foreign to our immediate subject of ensemble or solo singing, which, however, will, I am sure, afford you much enjoyment and merriment. There are compositions called in German 'Kinder Symphonien,' or 'Children's Symphonies.' Dear old Father Haydn made one of the best of these, and they have been followed by others, by Romberg, Chwatal, Grenzebach, Meyer, and Schulz. They are played by about ten or twelve persons. There will be a piano score for either two or four hands, one for violin, and for a number of toy instruments. One of the instruments is somewhat like a pair of bellows in construction. When it is pressed together the most illusive sound of 'cuckoo, cuckoo,' comes from it, so natural as almost to deceive the bird himself if he were listening.
"Another instrument is a china mug with a spout like a teapot. The mug must be half filled with water, and on blowing into the spout a melodious gurgling arises. This is supposed to be an exact imitation of the ravishing song of the sad poetic nightingale. Then there is a drum, a trumpet, a triangle, and many other things conducive to noise and music. Each performer has a separate sheet to read his notes from, and the effort to count properly, to wait for rests, and to make the right entrances, gives much serious employment. But when at last everything goes well together the effect is very merry and pleasing. One of Chwatal's symphonies is called 'The Sleigh-Ride.' The jingling of a set of small sleigh-bells is a feature in this. I should think," added Mrs. Martin, "that some of these symphonies would be a great addition to your musicals, and give lots of fun. The trumpeter of the occasion must take pains, however, not to fall into the error of the man who blew a tremendous blast upon his horn in the middle of a piece of music, producing a horrid discord. When the leader asked him, angrily, 'What in the world did you play that dreadful wrong note for?' the man meekly replied, 'Ach Himmel, there was a fly on the fourth line of the staff, and I played him!' Nor must you," went on Mrs. Martin, smiling at her reminiscences, "copy the negligent daring of a friend of mine who sang in a well-known German Verein. Things had been going badly, and finally the conductor in despair cried out, as he stamped his foot and gesticulated wildly, 'Tenors, tenors, you are a measure behind!' Whereupon my friend called back lustily to him, 'Ach! muss man denn so genau sein?'—must one then be so very particular?" The children laughed heartily at their dear hostess's jokes, as they tried always to do when it was at all possible.
"And now," said tall Ethel, "won't you please tell us all about the evening of the musical, and what we shall wear, and how to write the invitations?"
"Wear?" said Mrs. Martin. "Why, of course you would wear your very best evening gowns, you girls, and of course, to my mind, those who were dressed in white would look the prettiest. And the boys would wear their Tuxedo suits, or whatever they looked smartest in. As to the invitations, do not send out so many as to crowd your parlor uncomfortably. The rule which I have found safe to believe is that one-third of all the people invited will decline. This gives a hostess the liberty of paying a compliment to many more of her friends than her house will actually hold. The form of the invitation may be thus:
"Mrs. Dudley requests the pleasure of Mr. and Mrs. Allison's company on Thursday evening, November 12, at half past eight.
"Music at nine o'clock.
"160 Saint Bernard Street.
"Or your mother's ordinary visiting-card will do, if she writes in one corner, 'Music at nine o'clock.' Invitations should be sent at least a week or ten days beforehand. If it is possible for you to have a grand-piano, never use a square or an upright one. If you must use either of the latter kinds, turn it away from the wall, and drape the back of the upright with some pretty soft drapery, which can be held in place by books, vases, and a lamp on the top of the piano. All the portières or other curtains that can be taken down should be removed, and all the rugs and heavy furniture carried out of the room. Music sounds so much better in a place free from soft thick hangings.
"It is good to have programmes, for people enjoy listening to pieces much more if they know their names. Should expense deter you from having them printed, they may be nicely written off on a sheet of note-paper. For printed programmes, a card ten inches by three and a half, folded once in the middle of its length, makes an extremely good form.
"Would you like me to give you some idea of the programme, musically and spiritually considered, as well as from its purely material stand-point?" said Mrs. Martin, after a few moments' silence, "for I believe, with that exception, that I have told you all I can. Get out your note-book, Bertram, and put down what I tell you."