listened with mild attention.

When it was over and the audience had begun to disperse, Sergia came
out. She approached Uncle William, scanning his face. "How did you like
it?"

"They all done?" he demanded.

"Yes. Did you like the sea pieces?"

"I liked 'em. Yes--I liked 'em." Uncle William's tone was moderate.

Sergia was smiling at him a little. "The 'Depths of the Ocean'--you
liked that best, didn't you?"

Uncle William looked guilty. "I knew you was goin' to ask me about that
one," he said, "and I'd meant to listen hard--real hard--to it. I hain't
ever been quite so far down as that, but I thought mebbe I could
gauge it. But you see,"--his tone grew confidential and a little
apologetic,--"when they got that far along, I couldn't really tell which
was which. I wa'n't _plumb_ sure whether it was the eagle he was doin'
or the dep'hs, and it mixed me up some. I didn't jest know whether to
soar up aloft or dive considabul deep. It kep' me kind o' teeterin'
betwixt and between--" He looked at her appealingly, yet with a little
twinkle somewhere below.

"I see." Sergia's face was dancing. "The names _do_ help."

"That's it," said Uncle William, gallantly. "If he'd 'a' read off
the names, or stopped quite a spell between the pieces, I'd 'a' done