pleasure, and, of course, met the warmest encouragement from his
guests. Edith had discovered that he had very foggy notions of the
difference between a band and an orchestra, and when it was made clear
to him he had held out for a band until Edith threatened tears; but
the size of the orchestra they hired consoled him, and he had now no
regrets in the matter.

He kept time to the music continually--with his feet, or pounding on
the table with his fist, and sometimes with spoon or knife upon his
plate or a glass, without permitting these side-products to interfere
with the real business of eating and shouting.

"Tell 'em to play 'Nancy Lee'!" he would bellow down the length of
the table to his wife, while the musicians were in the midst of the
"Toreador" song, perhaps. "Ask that fellow if they don't know 'Nancy
Lee'!" And when the leader would shake his head apologetically in
answer to an obedient shriek from Mrs. Sheridan, the "Toreador"
continuing vehemently, Sheridan would roar half-remembered fragments
of "Nancy Lee," naturally mingling some Bizet with the air of that
uxorious tribute.

"Oh, there she stands and waves her hands while I'm away!
"A sail-er's wife a sail-er's star should be! Yo ho, oh, oh!
"Oh, Nancy, Nancy, Nancy Lee! Oh, Na-hancy Lee!"

"HAY, there, old lady!" he would bellow. "Tell 'em to play 'In the
Gloaming.' In the gloaming, oh, my darling, la-la-lum-tee--Well, if
they don't know that, what's the matter with 'Larboard Watch, Ahoy'?
THAT'S good music! That's the kind o' music I like! Come on, now!
Mrs. Callin, get 'em singin' down in your part o' the table. What's