Not being able to get near Yoletta, and having nothing to do, I
settled myself comfortably in one of the spacious seats, and gave up my
mind to pleasant dreams. At length, to my surprise, the father, who had
been regarding me for some time, said: "Will you lead, my son?"
I started up, turning very red in the face, for I did not wish to
trouble him with questions, yet was at a loss to know what he meant by
leading. I thought of several things--whist, evening prayers, dancing,
etc.; but being still in doubt, I was compelled to ask him to explain.
"Will you lead the singing?" he returned, looking a little surprised.
"Oh yes, with pleasure," said I. There being no music about, and no
piano, I concluded naturally that my friends amused themselves with solo
songs without accompaniment of an evening, and having a good tenor voice
I was not unwilling to lead off with a song. Clearing my rusty throat
with a _ghrr-ghrr-hram_ which made them all jump, I launched forth
with the "Vicar of Bray"--a grand old song and a great favorite of mine.
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