He would recite these to the yellow kitten when he got back to his little hot-box of a room.
One night the art gallery was closed, and he went into another big building where a crowd of people were seated.

At one end of it was a great pipe-organ, and after a while some one began to play.

With his cap tightly grasped in both hands, he tiptoed down the center aisle and stood breathlessly drinking in the wonderful tones that seemed to be coming from his own heart.
"Get out of the way, boy," said an usher.

"You are blocking the aisle." A queer-appearing lady who looked like a man touched his elbow.
"Here's a seat," she said in a deep voice.
"Thank you, sir," said Sandy, absently.

He scarcely knew whether he was sitting or standing.