The Argosy — page 158: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Our Amateur Concert. 143 what had been in his head, for he suddenly called out, “And you may put down some more fresh things, Edward! A couple of songs from me—one in each part!” “ You, uncle!” exclaimed Mrs. Smallwood. “ You /” ‘“Ves!me!” retorted the old gentleman, getting red in the face. “Why should you show so much surprise ?” “ Because—because,” faltered Mrs. Smallwood, “‘I should have thought you would not care about appearing on a platform.” She would have added “ because you can’t sing,” had she dared. Mr. Biddlecombe stopped her. ‘‘No, no, my dear, I shan’t mind it for once, especially as‘it’s for charity. In fact, I shall rather enjoy it. Ill show them how songs were sung fifty years ago, when I wasa lad. Put me down for ‘Swabbing the Deck, Mates,’ and ‘Here’s to Davy Jones.’ Ill send for the songs by this afternoon’s post.” And to prevent further opposition, he waddled out of the room. | Edward Sutton looked perplexed, and glanced at Mrs. Smallwood - for counsel. ‘That lady was gazing thoughtfully down at her own hands. ‘Then she looked up and shed a resigned smile round on us all. “It is unfortunate that my uncle should have taken this determination,” she said, ‘‘ but as he has, we must make the best of it. His singing, I am afraid, is not up to concert mark,” Edward Sutton threw back his head and laughed out. Some of the others looked as if they would have liked to do the same, but not having the privilege of relationship went no further. The con- clave broke up soon after; for the programme was not prepared beyond the end of the first part. That evening Edward Sutton and Fred Hardwicke began to prac- tise ‘* The Thunderstorm—Galop di Bravura.” Sutton took the treble as a matter of course. ‘‘Oh! I’m to have the bass, am I ?” cried Fred, with a laugh. “You can have this part—z/ you want it/” said his colleague, looking confused, and speaking frigidly. | “ Oh! I don’t say I want it,” was Fred’s careless rejoinder. “I think the best player ought to have it—whichever of us that is.” “ Well—I—-I opine that 7 am the better player of the two,” little Sutton managed to get out, his very forehead crimsoning with the effort of saying it, and the determination not to be “ sat upon.” “¢So I should imagine you opined,” replied Fred, ‘‘and perhaps / opine the same thing regarding myself. But neither you nor I should take it on ourselves to judge who’s fitted best for the parts. We'll put it to a committee of the house.” All the company in the drawing-room accordingly were called upon to decide this knotty point, and no doubt the debating and discussing would have gone on till now had not some one, with a more fertile imagination than the rest, suggested, ‘‘ Let them draw lots!” The lots were prepared, adjusted, and shaken full five minutes in cne of cConmiclooolks (SO)