There was a great deal more of this jingle of words, ringing in the titles of all the songs of the day. Notwithstanding, Alfred had sung it without pause or hesitation night after night with only his associates as an audience, yet at "the sword of Bunker Hill" his voice faltered and a stage fright that could not be conquered overtook him. The words of the song had left his mouth, the tongue was paralyzed. As many an older actor has done before and since, Alfred endeavored to conceal his confusion by stalling. It was really Alfred's first appearance before a heterogenous audience. Alfred learned even at that early age that there is a difference in audiences. Notwithstanding his failure, with the density of perception that usually pervades an amateur's mind, Alfred changed his costume to Lacy Hare's military togs. He mistook the shouts of laughter aroused by this suit as approval of his acting. Lin relieved the situation by leading Alfred out of the room ere he had presented half of his famous impersonations. Lin said afterwards: "I don't know what got inter thet boy. Why I allus said he had brass enuf in his face to act afore a protracted meetin' but be durned ef he warn't es bad es Joe Sanford when he stuck on the pole. I never been more cut up in my life, fur I would a swore he was too spunkey to git skeered." The remainder of the program was more than successful. Everyone acquitted themselves creditably excepting Alfred. Lin sang the pathetic ballad: "Out in the cold world, out in the street, Asking a penny of each one I meet; Shoeless I wander about through the day, Wearing my young life in sorrow away. No one to help me, no one to love, No one to pity me, none to caress, Fatherless, motherless, sadly I roam; A child of misfortune, I'm driven from home." Lin had a deep, sweet voice, almost a baritone. She was full of sentiment and magnetism. Deeply in earnest she sang the song with telling effect. A tear, a heartfelt tear, came from the eyes of more than one of the sympathetic group. Uncle Joe and Uncle Jack and one or two of the elder men had been led to the cellar several times during the evening, for a more pleasant purpose than Alfred generally went there for. The hard cider was kept in the cellar, the sweet cider upstairs. Uncle Joe was as mellow as a pippin. At the end of Lin's first chorus he threw her a handful of change. The other men threw coppers or small silver pieces. Lin, like a true artist, stood unmoved and continued her song. Alfred picked up the money and handed it to her. She disdained to receive it. How the fires of jealousy burned within Alfred's breast as he noted the triumph of Lin. How the men could become so affected as to throw her money he could not comprehend.