defiantly, in spite of all the hand-wavings from Bowditch and
Chick.

Finally, a trombone player caught sight of their gestures, and he
attracted the leader's attention to the fact that something was
wrong by giving him a prod in the stomach with the slide of his
trombone. The leader hesitated, stopped, and then faced about to
the speakers' stand. Some of the band paused, while others kept
right on with "Daisy Bell."

Mr. Snider smiled, bowed, and I suppose, with a desire to make
himself agreeable, thrust out his hands and applauded. At any
rate, the band-master mistook the meaning of it, for he silenced
those who were still playing, leaned forward to say something to
them all, waved his cornet, and started them once more on "Razzle
Dazzle." He had thought that Mr. Snider preferred that to "Daisy
Bell," and wanted it repeated. Then they had to begin the hand-
wavings and gesticulations all over again. Nothing could stop them
this time until Deacon Chick descended from the stand, went over
to the band-master, tapped him on the shoulder, and whispered
excitedly in his ear. At last they got them all quieted down,
except one tremendous man who sat on two stools, playing an
enormous bass-horn. For quite two minutes after the others had
ceased he went on with his: "Um-pah! Um-pah! Um-pah!"

"The boys don't get a chance like this more'n once a year," said a
man who was standing beside me, "and you bet they are going to
give J. Harvey his money's worth!"

He was a sharp-faced man, a farmer evidently, not more than