"Isn't he strong!" cried Travis. "Just a LITTLE better than Marie
Corelli and the Duchess!"
"And to think of having all those stories to read! You haven't
read any of them yet?"
"Not a one. I've been reading only the novels we take up in the
Wednesday class."
"Lord!" muttered Condy.
Condy's spirits had been steadily rising since the incident aboard
the whaleback. The exhilaration of the water-front, his delight
over the story he was to make out of the old mate's yarn,
Chinatown, the charming unconventionality of their lunch in the
Chinese restaurant, the sparkling serenity of the afternoon, and
the joy of discovering Travis' appreciation of his adored and
venerated author, had put him into a mood bordering close upon
hilarity.
"The next event upon our interesting programme," he announced,
"will be a banjosephine obligato in A-sia minor, by that justly
renowned impresario, Signor Conde Tin-pani Rivers, specially
engaged for this performance; with a pleasing and pan-hellenic
song-and-dance turn by Miss Travis Bessemer, the infant
phenomenon, otherwise known as 'Babby Bessie.'"
"You're not going to play that banjo here?" said Travis, as he
stripped away the canvas covering.
"Order in the gallery!" cried Condy, beginning to tune up. Then
in a rapid, professional monotone: "Ladies-and-gentlemen - with -
your - kind - permission - I - will - endeavor - to - give - you -
an - imitation - of - a - Carolina - coon - song"--and without
more ado, singing the words to a rattling, catchy accompaniment,
swung off into--
"F--or MY gal's a high-born leddy,
SHE'S brack, but not too shady.
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