was often called the "Professor" because he was the 
singing-master of the village and gave lessons in instrumental and 
vocal music. The love of music was another bond of union between 
Strout and Stiles, for the latter was a skilful, if not educated, performer 
on the violin. 
The Professor was about forty years of age, stout in person, with 
smooth shaven face and florid complexion. In Eastborough town 
matters he was a general factotum. He had been an undertaker's 
assistant and had worked for the superintendent of the Poorhouse. In 
due season and in turn he had been appointed to and had filled the 
positions of fence viewer, road inspector, hog reeve, pound keeper, and 
the year previous he had been chosen tax collector. Abner Stiles said 
that there "wasn't a better man in town for selectman and he knew he'd 
get there one of these days." 
To those residents of Mason's Corner whose names have been given, 
whose homes have been described and some whose personal 
peculiarities have been portrayed, must be added a late arrival. The 
new-comer whose advent in town during Christmas week had caused
so much discussion at the rehearsal in the old red schoolhouse, and 
whose liberality in providing a hot supper with all the fixings for the 
sleighing party from Mason's Corner, when it arrived at the Eagle Hotel 
at Eastborough Centre, had won, at a bound, the hearts of the majority 
of the younger residents of Mason's Corner. The village gossips 
wondered who he was, what he was, what he came for, and how long 
he intended to stay. If these questions had been asked of him personally, 
he might have returned answers to the first three questions, but it would 
have been beyond his power to have answered the fourth inquiry at that 
time. But the sayings and doings of certain individuals, and a chain of 
circumstances not of his own creation and beyond his personal control, 
conspired to keep him there for a period of nearly four months. During 
that time certain things were said and done, certain people were met 
and certain events took place which changed the entire current of this 
young man's future life, which shows plainly that we are all creatures 
of circumstance and that a man's success or failure in life may often 
depend as much or even more upon his environment than upon himself. 
CHAPTER III. 
THE CONCERT IN THE TOWN HALL. 
It was the evening of New Year's day, 186--. The leading people, in 
fact nearly all the people of the three villages forming the town of 
Eastborough, were assembled in the Town Hall at Eastborough Centre. 
The evening was pleasant and this fact had contributed to draw together 
the largest audience ever assembled in that hall. Not only was every 
seat taken, but the aisles were also crowded, while many of the younger 
citizens had been lifted up to eligible positions in the wide window 
seats of the dozen great windows on three sides of the large hall. 
The large attendance was also due in part to the fact that a new and 
original musical composition by Mr. Strout, the singing-master, would 
be sung for the first time in public. Again, it had been whispered up at 
Hill's grocery at Mason's Corner that the young city fellow who was 
boarding at Deacon Mason's was going to be present, and this rumor 
led to a greatly increased attendance from that village.
The audience was a typical one of such communities at that period; 
horny-handed farmers with long shaggy beards and unkempt hair, 
dressed in ill-fitting black suits; matronly looking farmers' wives in 
their Sunday best; rosy-cheeked daughters full of fun and vivacity and 
chattering like magpies; tall, lank, awkward, bashful sons, and 
red-haired, black-haired, and tow-headed urchins of both sexes, the 
latter awaiting the events of the evening with the wild anticipations that 
are usually called forth only by the advent of a circus. 
The members of the chorus were seated on the large platform, the girls 
being on the right and the fellows on the left. A loud hum of 
conversation arose from the audience and chorus, a constant turning 
over and rattling of programmes gave a cheerful and animated 
appearance to the scene. The centre door at the rear of the platform was 
opened and all eyes were turned in that direction, the chorus twisting 
their necks or turning half 'round in their seats. 
Professor Strout entered and was greeted with a loud burst of applause. 
He wore a dress suit that he had hired in Boston, and there was a large 
white rose in the lapel of his coat. He was accompanied by Miss Tilly 
James, the pianist, who wore a handsome wine-colored silk dress that 
had been made for the occasion by    
    
		
	
	
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