"A song!"

"Who'll begin?"

"Where's Steevy?"

"Little Steevy!"

"Steevy! Wheer be ye got to?" roared one old fellow with very
white hair and a very red face--"ye're not so small as ye can hide
in yer mother's thimble!"

A young giant of a man stood up in response to this adjuration,
blushing and smiling bashfully.

"Here I be!"

"Sing away, lad, sing away!"

"Wet yer pipe, and whistle!"

"Tune up, my blackbird!"

Steevy, thus adjured, straightened himself to his full stature of
over six feet and drank off a cupful of ale. Then he began in a
remarkably fine and mellow tenor:

"Would you choose a wife
For a happy life,
Leave the town and the country take;