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If you was anybody at all, you wouldn't look at him! You wouldn't think of him!" "O 'Manda, 'Manda! You know I can't let you talk so," moaned Statira. "Talk? I could talk my head off! 'You must not think I was provoked with you," she mimicked Lemuel's dignity of diction in mincing falsetto. "'I will come to see you very soon. Miserable, worthless, conceited whipper-snapper!"
The man had made dogged scorn a principle of life to maintain himself at the height which his courage warranted. His thickness of wit was never a bar to the success of his irony. For the irony of the ignorant Scot is rarely the outcome of intellectual qualities. It depends on a falsetto voice and the use of a recognized number of catchwords.
In fact, as Mackenzie already has pointed out, although the laryngoscope is invaluable in the recognition and treatment of diseases which before only could be guessed at, "with the exception of certain points relating to the 'falsetto' register, it can scarcely be said to have thrown any new light on the mechanism of the voice."
The old man had a sickly hollow voice and an asthmatic quavering lisp. . . . The complete lack of dignity and decorum was emphasized by a very small boy who seconded the sacristan and whose head was hardly visible over the railing of the choir. The boy sang in a shrill falsetto and seemed to be trying to avoid singing in tune. Kunin stayed a little while, listened and went out for a smoke.
Instantly the others commenced to pick it up, but before they had sung three words 'Enery Irving, in tones of horror, demanded "The Mar-shall-aise again; quick, you idiot!" from Snapper, and himself swung off into a falsetto rendering of "Three Blind Mice."
But the old woman's delight was by no means exhausted, the light shining from the city and the dark peaceful Sound had their message for her secluded life, and she began to sing, in a thin, quavering falsetto: "Gently the Night upon her silent wings Comes, and the stars are bright in east and west; And lo, the bell of evening rings; And men draw homewards, and the birds all rest."
Here follow all the emperors, all the spirits, and the interminable list of ancestors. In her trembling old woman's falsetto, Madame Prune sings all this, without omitting anything, at a pace which almost takes away her breath.
And immediately after her prayer breaks forth, soars upward in a shrill nasal falsetto, like a morning alarum when the hour for waking has come, the mechanical noise of a spring let go and running down. "... The richest woman in the world! Cleansed from all my sins, O Ama-Terace-Omi-Kami! in the river of Kamo."
Air is too high for him anyhow unless he sings it with a hog noise. Oh, you get out! You do, too, know what a "hog noise" is. You want to let on you've always lived in town. Likely story if you never heard anybody in the hog-pasture with a basket of nubbins calling, "Peeg! Peeg! Boo-eel Booee!" A man's voice breaks into falsetto on the "Boo-ee!"
Now then, Krivoi! . . . On the r-i-v-e-r-s " The Deacon's voice was loud and hoarse and cracked, but his friend sang in a shrill falsetto. The dirty building loomed large in the darkness and seemed to be coming nearer, threatening the singers, who were arousing its dull echoes. The heavy, pompous clouds were floating in the sky over their heads.
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