Great Britain -- Social conditions -- 19th century; London (England) -- Description and travel
he could go high.
The next adventure that befell me in my visit to the Short-Timers, was
the sudden apparition of a military band. I had been inspecting the
hammocks of the crew of the good ship, when I saw with astonishment that
several musical instruments, brazen and of great size, appeared to have
suddenly developed two legs each, and to be trotting about a yard. And
my astonishment was heightened when I observed a large drum, that had
previously been leaning helpless against a wall, taking up a stout
position on four legs. Approaching this drum and looking over it, I
found two boys behind it (it was too much for one), and then I found that
each of the brazen instruments had brought out a boy, and was going to
discourse sweet sounds. The boys—not omitting the fifer, now playing a
new instrument—were dressed in neat uniform, and stood up in a circle at
their music-stands, like any other Military Band. They played a march or
two, and then we had Cheer boys, Cheer, and then we had Yankee Doodle,
and we finished, as in loyal duty bound, with God save the Queen. The
band’s proficiency was perfectly wonderful, and it was not at all
wonderful that the whole body corporate of Short-Timers listened with
faces of the liveliest interest and pleasure.
What happened next among the Short-Timers? As if the band had blown me
into a great class-room out of their brazen tubes, _in_ a great
class-room I found myself now, with the whole choral force of
Short-Timers singing the praises of a summer’s day to the harmonium, and
my small but highly respected friend the fifer blazing away vocally, as
if he had been saving up his wind for the last twelvemonth; also the
whole crew of the good ship Nameless swarming up and down the scale as if
they had never swarmed up and down the rigging. This done, we threw our
whole power into God bless the Prince of Wales, and blessed his Royal
Highness to such an extent that, for my own Uncommercial part, I gasped
again when it was over. The moment this was done, we formed, with
surpassing freshness, into hollow squares, and fell to work at oral
lessons as if we never did, and had never thought of doing, anything
else.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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