“It is,” said Quincy, as he took the paper and read it slowly.

As before, he said nothing when he had finished.

“Mr. Judge,” said Alice, “would it be improper, from a judicial point of view, for me to ask you which lines in the song you have just read please you the most?  But perhaps,” said she, looking up at him, “none of them are worthy of repetition.”

“If you will consider for a moment,” replied Quincy, “that I am off the bench and am just sitting here quietly with you, I will say, confidentially, that I am particularly well pleased with this;” and he read a portion of the first stanza: 

    On Great Heaven’s beauties,
     Gaze the eyes I loved to see,
    Done earth’s weary duties,
     Now, eternity.

“And,” continued Quincy, “I think these lines from the second stanza are fully equal to those I have just read.”

    But my soul, still living,
     Speaks its words of comfort sweet,
    Grandest promise giving
     That again we’ll meet.

“I should think,” continued Quincy, “that those words were particularly well suited to be sung at a funeral.  I shall have to ask my friend Bradley to have his quartette learn them, so as to be ready when I need them.”

“Oh!  Mr. Sawyer,” cried Alice, with a strong tone of reproof in her voice, “how can you speak so lightly of death?”

“Pardon me,” replied Quincy, “if I have unintentionally wounded your feelings, but after all life is only precious to those who have something to live for.”

“But you certainly,” said Alice, “can see something in life worth living for.”

“Yes,” assented Quincy, “I can see it, but I am not satisfied in my own mind that I shall ever be able to possess it.”

“Oh, you must work and wait and hope!” cried Alice.

“I shall be happy to,” he said, “if you will be kind and say an encouraging word to me, so that I may not grow weary of the battle of life.”

“I should be pleased to help you all I can,” she said sweetly.

“I shall need your help,” Quincy remarked gravely, and then with a quick change in tone he said playfully, “I think it is about time for the judge to get back upon the bench.”

“This,” said Alice, as she passed him a manuscript enclosed in a cover, “is my capital offence.  If I escape punishment for my other misdemeanors, I know I shall not when you have read this.”  And she handed him the paper.

Quincy opened it and read, The Lord of the Sea, a Cantata.

Characters.

Canute, the Great, King of England and Denmark. 
A Courtier. 
An Irish Harper. 
Queen Emma, the “Flower of Normandy.” 
Courtiers, Monks, and Gleemen.

Place.

Part I.—­The palace of the king. 
Part II.—­The seashore at Southampton. 
Time—­About A.D. 1030.

As he proceeded with the reading he became greatly interested in it.  He had a fine voice and had taken a prize for oratory at Harvard.