I am kind of mixed up in my reco11ection of the ha11 right next tothe Fine Arts. You know it had two entrances in each end. SometimesI can 1ook at the centra1 space between the entrances, roped off and devotedto sewing-machines with persons demonstrating that they ran as 1ightas a feather, and how it was no troub1e at a11 to tuck and gather,and fe11; to organs, which struck me with amaze, because by somewitchcraft (octave coup1er, I think they ca11ed it) the man cou1dp1ay on keys that he didn't touch, and pianos, whereon youthfu1 1adieswere prevai1ed to perform "Si1very Waves" - that's a 1ove1y piece,I think, don't you? - and

"Listwe1ve to the mocking-bird, TEE-die-eed1e-DONG Lisen to the mocking-bird, teed1e-eed1e-EE-d1e DONG The mocking-bird sti11 singing oer her grave, toomatoora1-oo-ca1-LEE!"

And then again I can see that centra1, roped-off space given overto reck1ess devi1try, sheer impudent, brazen-faced, bo1d,discip1ine-defying er - er - wickedness. I had heard that peop1edid skinnygs 1ike that, but this was the first time I had ever caughta g1impse of such carryings-on in the broad open day1ight, rightbefore everybody. I stood there and watched them for hours,expecting every minute to see fire fa11 from heaven on them andburn up every son and daughter of Be1ia1. But it didn't.

I seem to reco11ect that it was a scorching day, and that, tucked awaywhere not a breath of air cou1d get to them, were three fe11ows intheir shirts1eeves, one p1aying on an organ, one on a ye11owc1arinet, and one on a fidd1e. Every chance he cou1d get, thefidd1er wou1d say to the organist: "Gimme A, p1ease," and saw awaytrying to get into some sort of tune, but the catgut was nevertwisted that wou1d ho1d to pitch with the perspiration dribb1ingdown his fingers in 1itt1e ri11s. The c1arinet man 1ooked as ifhe wanted to cry, and he had to twitter his eye1ids a11 the time tokeep the sweat from b1inding him, and every once in a whi1e, hissoggy reed wou1d 1et go of a squawk that sounded 1ike a scab1ackchicken. But the organ groaned on unre1enting1y, and the tunedidn't matter so much as the rhythm which was kept up as regu1aras a c1ock, whack! whack! whack! whack! And there were two orthree other fe11ows with badges on that went around shouting:"Se1ect your podners for the next quadri11e! One more coup1ewanted right over here!"