chorus of the loveliest voices that ever fell on mortal ears. The tone
had that marvelous silver clang of the woodland thrush with yet a
deeper, human poignancy, a note of passionate longing and endearment,
shy but assertive, wild, but oh! so alluring. We chinned ourselves
expectantly on the edge of our floor and waited, panting.

"A serenade," whispered Swank, and Whinney shush-ed him savagely.

Through the forest glades we could see the choir approaching, the dusky
flash of brown bodies swaying, palpitating to the intoxicating rhythm
of the song. Slowly and with great dignity they entered the clearing
and stood, a score of slender creatures, in the full blaze of the moon,
their lithe-limbed bodies clad only in delicate mother-of-pearl
_rigolos_.

Thus standing, they again burst into the melody of their national
love-song. I transcribe the original words which for simple, primitive
beauty are without rival.

A-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a
E-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e

I-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i
O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
U-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u

and sometimes

W-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w