Withthisformidableannouncement，theoldladyopenedaprodigiousleatherbag，fromwhichsheneverpartednightorday，andtookoutanear-trumpetoftheold-fashionedkind——somethingbetweenakey-bugleandaFrenchhorn。“Idon’tcaretousethethinggenerally。”explainedMrs。Pentecost，“becauseI’mafraidofitsmakingmedeaferthanever。ButIcan’tandwon’tmissthemusic。Idoteonmusic。Ifyou’llholdtheotherend，Sammy，I’llstickitinmyear。
Neelie，mydear，tellhimtobegin。”
YoungPedgiftwastroubledwithnonervoushesitation。Hebeganatonce，notwithsongsofthelightandmodernkind，suchasmighthavebeenexpectedfromanamateurofhisageandcharacter，butwithdeclamatoryandpatrioticburstsofpoetry，settotheboldandblatantmusicwhichthepeopleofEnglandloveddearlyattheearlierpartofthepresentcentury，andwhich，whenevertheycangetit，theylovedearlystill。“TheDeathofMarmion。”“TheBattleoftheBaltic。”“TheBayofBiscay。”“Nelson。”undervariousvocalaspects，asexhibitedbythelateBraham——thesewerethesongsinwhichtheroaringconcertinaandstridenttenorofGustusJuniorexultedtogether。
“Tellmewhenyou’retired，ladiesandgentlemen。”saidtheminstrelsolicitor。“There’snoconceitabout_me。_Willyouhavealittlesentimentbywayofvariety？ShallIwindupwith’TheMistletoeBough’and’PoorMaryAnne’？”
Havingfavoredhisaudiencewiththosetwocheerfulmelodies，youngPedgiftrespectfullyrequestedtherestofthecompanytofollowhisvocalexampleinturn，offering，ineverycase，toplay“arunningaccompaniment“impromptu，ifthesingerwouldonlybesoobligingastofavorhimwiththekey-note。