It was Dr. Brailey who had to announce to the audience at the start of the second part of the concert that Mr. Barton, owing to a sudden indisposition, would be unable to sing “Let me like a Soldier fall”--the other song that was opposite his name on the programme--but that their old friend, Mr. Stamford, had kindly stepped into the breach and would do his best with that number. “Loud and prolonged applause,” the _Gazette_ stated, followed the announcement; for Mr. Stamford was the leading tenor of the Minster choir. Mr. Barton, carrying with him his three encore songs--he had come fully prepared to meet the preposterous demands of an enthusiastic audience--left Broadminster by the night train. And up to this day I believe that he does not know by what diabolic trick on the part of some one he made such a fiasco. He has been heard to declare that no persuasion will ever induce him to sing again in Broadminster, and, so far as I can gather, there is no likelihood of any machinery being set in motion to cause him to break his vow. I think that the claim which the musical fraternity of Broadminster advance respecting the moral tone of their performances, whether given under the patronage of the Church or not, can certainly be maintained. The Kreutzer Sonata has been placed on the _Index Expurgatorius_ of the Concert Committee ever since Tolstoi wrote a foolish book pointing out whither that composition was likely to lead young people with a tendency toward voluptuousness; and when a lady of a sensitive nature but an open mind submitted to them a song which she had been advised to sing at a forthcoming concert, pointing out where in one line the writer of the words had, she thought, gone a little too far, they considered the matter with closed doors and all females excluded, and decided that her suspicions were but too well founded, and that the offensive line should be altered. This was done, and the honour of Broadminster was preserved intact. The name of the song was, “It was a Dream,” and the line objected to was-- “We kiss'd beneath the moon's cold beam.” The shock of this shameless confession was mitigated by the substitution of the word “met” for “kiss'd”-- “We met beneath the moon's cold beam-- It was a dream--it was a dream!” “Nothing could be happier than the change,” said Lady Birnam. “It left so much to the imagination.” II.--THE MUSICAL TABLEAUX Some people have been heard to affirm that there is too much music going on at Broadminster. There may perhaps be some grounds for the assumption. At any rate, it is certain that of late few concerts contributed to solely by local talent have paid their expenses. The opinion seems to be general that when the vocalists can be heard every day of the week free of charge in the Minster, people are unwilling to pay three shillings, two shillings, or even (back seats, unreserved) one shilling for listening to them at a concert.