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 included, by their first names. So it seemed to Texas, at least, his culture being of another kind.

There was a good deal of singing, between the Duncan girls and the young men, with loud accompaniment on the large hoarse piano which, Texas understood, was a historic instrument, and a notable one, in that section. Texas could not see much improvement over Viney Kelly's efforts to entertain in the roistering tunes which the young men shouted, with the bits of sentimental embroidery contributed by Ruth and Naomi. He didn't take a deep interest in it, although he tried to appear greatly entertained, for many things came drifting into his mind calling for serious consideration. Sallie had hung back out of it on the plea that she did not know the new songs. She would not approach the piano, in spite of their entreaties and light banter.

"And you the only one in the crowd that can really sing—unless it's Mr. Hartwell?" Naomi said.

Texas was quick to assure her that he could not lift a note. But his mind leaped back from following the trend of graver things to the pleasant conjecture of what kind of a song Sallie McCoy would select if she should sing. As for her voice, he felt that he knew how it would sound, felt that he had heard it many a time before, indeed. There came over him suddenly a longing for its satisfying