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Some of the voices were cracked and others badly out of tune. Moses Wopp’s voice, loudest of all, sounded like a foghorn and the windows fairly rattled in their frames. Nell motioned him to her desk. She thought by occupying his attention elsewhere the music lesson might proceed with more melody and less noise. Moses had developed his stentorian tones at home, by the lusty singing of Hallelujah hymns under the strict supervision of his mother.,“Why, they know what you say—mind!” May Nell exclaimed, admiringly.,Moses’ intuition regarding St. Elmo’s retreat proved to be correct, and it was a sadly dejected countenance on which he gazed when he looked into the cave. Tears, dirt, and the juice of Saskatoon berries mingled on the fair sleeping face of the child, until he seemed to be the very Cree Indian he had so often personated in his play. His long curls were tangled and matted with small twigs. His diminutive brown velvet coat displayed a large rent in the elbow through which oozed a pathetic-looking suppuration of pink and white checked shirt.,“Here I stand upon this stage,“What’s the trouble, dear? What were you afraid of?” she enquired, as she raised him to his feet.,“Well, Flash can’t do that.”,“Mudgie, Mudgie, come to Elmo.”,“Salute your partner,” yelled Geordie Hodgekiss, the first caller-off.,“It was shore a wonder, with the band playin’ an’ all. I never heard sich moosic, not sence the circus.”,“He smiles sich a toothy grin,” commented Moses.,“Oh, Billy!” she said, despairingly; and he knew in spite of her smile that she disliked his words. “The little girl is looking for you. She is lonely; you must amuse her.”,“Arsk a blessin’, Ebenezer.”.