India -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories, English
"I'd no particular thought to be a soldier i' them days," said Learoyd,
still keeping his eye on the bare hill opposite, "but this sort o' talk
put it i' my head. They was so good, th' chapel folk, that they tumbled
ower t'other side. But I stuck to it for 'Liza's sake, specially as she
was learning me to sing the bass part in a horotorio as Jesse were gettin'
up. She sung like a throstle hersen, and we had practicin's night after
night for a matter of three months."
"I know what a horotorio is," said Ortheris, pertly. "It's a sort of
chaplain's sing-song--words all out of the Bible, and hullabaloojah
choruses."
"Most Greenhow Hill folks played some instrument or t'other, an' they all
sung so you mignt have heard them miles away, and they were so pleased wi'
the noise they made they didn't fair to want anybody to listen. The
preacher sung high seconds when he wasn't playin' the flute, an' they set
me, as hadn't got far with big fiddle, again Willie Satterthwaite, to jog
his elbow when he had to get a' gate playin'. Old Jesse was happy if ever
a man was, for he were th' conductor an' th' first fiddle an' th' leadin'
singer, beatin' time wi' his fiddle-stick, till at times he'd rap with it
on the table, and cry out, 'Now, you mun all stop; it's my turn,' And he'd
face round to his front, fair sweating wi' pride, to sing th' tenor solos.
But he were grandest i' th' choruses, waggin' his head, flinging his arms
round like a windmill, and singin' hisself black in the face. A rare
singer were Jesse.
"Yo' see, I was not o' much account wi' 'em all exceptin' to 'Liza
Roantree, and I had a deal o' time settin' quiet at meetings and horotorio
practices to hearken their talk, and if it were strange to me at
beginnin', it got stranger still at after, when I was shut on it, and
could study what it meaned.
"Just after th' horotorios come off, 'Liza, as had allus been weakly like,
was took very bad. I walked Dr. Warbottom's horse up and down a deal of
times while he were inside, where they wouldn't let me go, though I fair
ached to see her.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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