The village choir was short of singers, so Alan agreed to audition. He stood at the front, opened his mouth, and followed the music as best he could.
After one verse, the conductor asked him to try the back row. After another, she suggested the last row. Finally she gave him a chair beside the door.
‘Is my voice really that bad?’ Alan asked.
‘You’re keeping excellent time,’ she said. ‘And you know every word.’
‘Then why am I by the door?’
‘Because from there,’ she replied, ‘the rest of us can hear ourselves sing.’