Who taught me, when a happy schoolboy--in the house of my
beloved and venerated master, the Rev. Alfred Whitehead, M.A.,
and his dear wife--to sing at sight, who first fostered my
passion for music; to that genial and highly accomplished man,
who has vanished from my view for years, but not from my
memory, where he resides ever, as a kind of Apollo Belvedere
of those far-off days--that New World to which the Columbus
Man, may never return.