'Tis, as
you know, Mr. Stuart, by the late Dr. Arne, the prince of song-writers.
Here, boy!" he said, turning to one of the small darkies standing about
to snuff the candles, "tell Caesar to bring me 'Pet.'"--for it was thus
he called his violin, which had been saved by Caesar's devotion and
bravery when all else at Elk Hill was destroyed by order of my Lord
Cornwallis. While this was going forward Calvert stood by silent,
outwardly calm and unruffled, inwardly much perturbed. It was his
pleasure and habit to sing for Mr. Jefferson or for General and Madame
Washington, but it was something of an ordeal to sing before an
audience. That quiet heroism, though, which was part of his character,
and which made him accept tranquilly everything, from the most trifling
inconvenience to the greatest trials, kept him from raising any
objection.
As Mr. Jefferson drew his bow across his violin the company fell away
from the centre of the room, leaving a clear space. Stepping forward he
leaned over his beloved Amati and played the opening bars of Dr. Arne's
famous ballad, with its liquid phrases and quaint intervals of melody.
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