shoulders from behind, he faced him about.

Mr. Craig was the first to respond, and seizing the cookee in the same
way, called out, 'Squad, fall in! quick march!' In a moment every man
was in the procession.

'Strike up, Batchees, ye little angel!' shouted Blaney, the appellation
a concession to the minister's presence; and away went Baptiste in a
rollicking French song with the English chorus--

'Then blow, ye winds, in the morning,
Blow, ye winds, ay oh!
Blow, ye winds, in the morning,
Blow, blow, blow.'

And at each 'blow' every boot came down with a thump on the plank floor
that shook the solid roof. After the second round, Mr. Craig jumped upon
the bench, and called out--

'Three cheers for Billy the cook!'

In the silence following the cheers Baptiste was heard to say, 'Bon!
dat's mak me feel lak hit dat puddin' all hup mesef, me.'

'Hear till the little baste!' said Blaney in disgust.

'Batchees,' remonstrated Sandy gravely, 'ye've more stomach than
manners.'

'Fu sure! but de more stomach dat's more better for dis puddin','