His band had been formed in 1863, and consisted of about a dozen performers.  Christmas time was coming on, when the bandsmen resolved to show off a little and at the same time collect some money from their friends to spend in the New Year.  They therefore decided that the band should go out “busking” each evening during Christmas week.  They had only learned to play five tunes—­two of them belonging to well-known hymns, a third “God Save the Queen,” while the remaining two were quicksteps, one of which was not quite perfectly learned.

They were well received in the village, and almost every house had been visited with the exception of the Hall, which was some distance away, and had been left till the last probably owing to the fact that the squire was not particularly noted for his liberality.  If, however, he had been at home that week, and had any sense of music, he would have learned all their tunes off by heart, as the band must have been heard clearly enough when playing at the farms surrounding the mansion.

To avoid a possibility of giving offence, however, it was decided to pay him a visit; so the band assembled one evening in front of the mansion, and the conductor led off with a Psalm tune, during which the Hall door was opened by a servant.  At this unexpected compliment expectations rose high amongst the members of the band, and a second Psalm tune was played, the full number of verses in the hymn being repeated.  Then followed a pause to give the squire a chance of distinguishing himself, but as he failed to rise to the occasion it was decided to play a quickstep.  This was followed by a rather awkward pause, as there were some high notes in the remaining quickstep which the soprano player said he was sure he could not reach as he was getting “ramp’d” already.  At this moment, however, the situation was relieved by the appearance of a female servant at the door.

The member of the band who had been deputed to collect all donations at once went to the door, and all eyes were turned upon him when he came back towards the lawn, every member on tip-toe of expectation.  But he had only returned to say that the squire’s lady wished the band to play a polka.  This spread consternation throughout the band, and one of the younger members went to the conductor saying, “A polka!  A polka!  I say, Jim, what’s that?” “Oh,” replied the conductor, “number three played quick!” Now number three was a quickstep named after Havelock the famous English General in India, so “Havelock’s March played quick” had to do duty for a polka; but the only man who could play it quickly was the conductor himself, who after the words, “Ready, chaps!” and the usual signal “One-two-three,” dashed off at an unusual speed, the performers following as rapidly as they could, the Bombardon and the Double B, the biggest instruments, finishing last with a most awful groan, after which the conductor, who couldn’t stop laughing when once he started, was found rolling