They all saw it, and they waited for the result. It was an awful
long prayer, and the church was hot, the tenor was no iceberg himself, and
shoemaker's wax melts at ninety eight degrees Fahrenheit.
[Illustration: THE TENOR ARRAYED IN ALL HIS GLORY.]
The minister finally got to the amen, and read a hymn, the choir then
coughed and all rose up. The chair that the tenor sat in stuck to him like
a brother, and came right along and nearly broke his suspenders.
It was the tenor to bat, and as the great organ struck up he pushed the
chair, looked around to see if he had saved his pants, and began to sing,
and the rest of the choir came near bursting. The tenor was called out on
three strikes by the umpire, and the alto had to sail in, and while she
was singing the tenor began to feel of first base to see what was the
matter. When he got his hand on the shoemaker's warm wax his
heart smote him, and he looked daggers at the soprano, but she put on a
pious look and got her mouth ready to sing "Hold the Fort."
Well, the tenor sat down on a white handkerchief before he went home, and
he got home without anybody seeing him, and he has been, as the old saying
is, "laying" for the soprano ever since to get even.
It is customary in all first-class choirs for the male singers to furnish
candy for the lady singers, and the other day the tenor went to a candy
factory and had a peppermint lozenger made with about half a teaspoonful
of cayenne pepper in the centre of it.
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