IX THE HIDING-SCHOOL. 133 



must speak from an expanded chest, with his 

 lungs full of air, or at night he will be dumb. 

 The young man behind the counter who has to 

 entreat, to persuade, to beg, to be gentle, he 

 may make his voice soft, but to speak with 

 energy in a low tone is to strain the vocal cords 

 and to injure the lungs permanently. The opera 

 singer finds to sing piano, pianissimo more 

 wearisome than to make herself heard above a 

 Wagner orchestra. The orator, with everybody 

 still and listening with countenance intent, 

 dares not to speak softly, except now and then 

 for contrast. In the army we have three 

 months' rest, and then we go to the surgeon, 

 and he examines our throats and lungs, and sees 

 whether or not they need any treatment. If 

 you go to the camp of the military this summer, 

 you will find the young officers whom you know 

 in the ball-room so soft and so gentle, not 

 whispering to their men, but shouting, and the 

 best officer will have the loudest shout." 



The society young lady remembers the 

 stories which she has heard her father and 

 uncles tell of that " officer's sore throat," 

 which in 1861 and 1862, caused so many ludi- 



