Part 7 (2/2)
Alas, _Childe Roland!_
Seriously, if our rising young co? I suppose it's because they retire so late--read Hanslick carefully, h to call your work sohbor to catch your idea Weto our te the form, the instruhbor, for all we knoill in iination have buried his rich, irritable old aunt, and so your paean of gladness, with its brazen clamor of trumpets, means for him the triumphant ride home from the cemetery and the anticipated joys of the post-mortuary hurrah
XIX
A COLLEGE FOR CRITICS
Yes, it was indeed a hot, sultry afternoon, and as the class settled down to stolid work, even Mr Quelson shi+fted i to explain to a young pupil from Missouri that Beethoven did not write his oratorio, _The Mount of Olives_, for Park and Tilford It was no use, however, the pupil had been brought up in a delicatessen foundry and saw everything musical froh the open oriel s at the western end of the large hall, and the class inwardly rebelled at its task and thought of cool, green grottoes with heatedover the home-plate, while the multitude belched bravos as Teddy McCorkle aured bass and the art of descant, and again it groaned aloud
Mr Quelson faced his pupils In his eyes were tears, but he must do his duty
”Gentle, but remember this is exao out into the great world to face its cares, to wrestle for its prizes, to put forth your strength against the strength of men; in a word, to becoe, wherein you have i”
He paused, and the class, which had pricked up its ears at the word ”iloonified preceptor continued
”And now, gentlemen of the Brah committee is without, and is presently to be ad of you to do yourself justice Surely, after five years of constant, sincere, and earnest study you will not backslide, you will not, in the language of the great Matthewson, make any nly He had made a delicate joke, and it was not lost, for ood fellow,” and in ratified and bowed Then he tapped a bell, which sounded the triad of B flat minor, and the doors at the eastern end of the hall parted asunder, and the exaust looking gang Two est cities of the country comprised the board of examination, with a president selected by couished pianist and literator, Dr Larry Nopkin, and his sarcastic glare at the pupils gave every man the nervous shi+vers Funereally the nine men filed by and took their seats on the platfor with Mr
Quelson the dais, on which stood a grand piano
There was a brief pause, but pregnant with anxiety Mr Quelson, all s list of naht of the _Tannhauser-Busch Overture_ which it had listened to so attentively in the Wagner coaches that brought it to Brahms Institute
The only rue was in bad taste
It should have been called the Chopin Retreat or the Paderewski Home, but Brahms--pooh!
Dr Nopkin arose, put on a pair of ponderous spectacles, and grinnedin with a story Once upon a ti ht out Thalberg, when that great pianist--”
”Great pianist!” whispered Blink, sardonically
”Yes, I said great pianist--greater than all your Paderewski's, your--”
”I protest, Mr President,” said Mr Blink, rising to his feet; at the same time a pink flush rose to his cheek ”I protest We have not come here to compare notes about pianists, but to exaled, but respectfully and in a perfectto Mr Quelson he said:
”Either I am president or I am not, Mr Quelson”