Again the laugh broke forth under the window.

“What can those girls be laughing at?” exclaimed Alice, moving toward the window, followed by her mother and me.

Seated in a semicircle on the grass were most of the ladies boarding at Mrs. Clarkson’s, and in front of them stood Toddie, in that high state of excitement to which sympathetic applause always raises him.

“Say it again,” said one of the ladies.

Toddie put on an expression of profound wisdom, made violent gestures with both hands and repeated the following, with frequent gesticulations:—­

    “Azh wadiant azh ze matchless wose
      Zat poeck-artuss fanshy;
    Azh fair azh whituss lily-blowzh;
      Azh moduss azh a panzhy;
    Azh pure azh dew zat hides wiffin
     Awwahwah’s sun-tissed tsallish;
    Azh tender azh ze pwimwose fweet
      All zish, and moah, izh Alish.”

I gasped for breath.

“Who taught you all that, Toddie?” asked one of the ladies.

“Nobody didn’t taught me—­I lyned [Footnote:  learned] it.”

“When did you learn it?”

“Lyned it zish mornin’.  Ocken Hawwy said it over, an’ over, an’ over, djust yots of timezh, out in ze garden.”

The ladies all exchanged glances—­my lady readers will understand just how, and I assure gentlemen that I did not find their glances at all hard to read.  Alice looked at me inquiringly, and she now tells me that I blushed sheepishly and guiltily.  Poor Mrs. Mayton staggered to a chair, and exclaimed:—­

“Too late! too late!”

Considering their recent achievements, Toddie and Budge were a very modest couple as I drove them home that evening.  Budge even made some attempt at apologizing for their appearance, saying that they couldn’t find Maggie, and couldn’t wait any longer; but I assured him that no apology was necessary.  I was in such excellent spirits that my feeling became contagious; and we sang songs, told stories, and played ridiculous games most of the evening, paying but little attention to the dinner that was set for us.

“Uncle Harry,” said Budge, suddenly, “do you know we haven’t ever sung,—­’Drown old Pharaoh’s Army Hallelujah,’ since you’ve been here?  Let’s do it now.”  “All right, old fellow.”  I knew the song —­such as there was of it—­and its chorus, as every one does who ever heard the Jubilee Singers render it; but I scarcely understood the meaning of the preparations which Budge made.  He drew a large rocking-chair into the middle of the room, and exclaimed:—­

“There, Uncle Harry—­you sit down.  Come along, Tod—­you sit on that knee, and I’ll sit on this.  Lift up both hands, Tod, like I do.  Now we’re all ready, Uncle Harry.”

I sang the first line,—­

“When Israel was in bondage, they cried unto de Lord,” without any assistance, but the boys came in powerfully on the refrain, beating time simultaneously with their four fists upon my chest.  I cannot think it strange that I suddenly ceased singing, but the boys viewed my action from a different standpoint.