Chorus:
And then we'll go a-rambling,
A-rambling, a-rambling,
A-rambling through the roses
That ramble round the door.
If we drown, our bones and blood
Mingle with the eternal flood.
That's no hardship to deplore!
We've all been in the sea before.
Chorus:
And then we'll go a-rambling,
A-rambling, a-rambling,
The road that Jonah rambled
And twenty thousand more.
"Now," said Mr. Pennyfeather, holding out his hands like the conductor of a revival meeting, "all the ladies, very softly, please."
The solemn Spaniard rolled his great black eyes at the audience, and repeated the refrain pianissimo, while the silvery voices caroled:
With all the little lobsters
From Frisco to the Nore.
"Now, all the gentlemen, please," said Mr. Pennyfeather. The Spaniard's eyes flashed. He rolled thunder from the piano, and Mr. Neilsen found himself bellowing with the rest of the audience:
The road that Jonah rambled
From Hull to Singapore,
And twenty thousand, thirty thousand,
Forty thousand, fifty thousand,
Sixty thousand, seventy thousand,
Eighty thousand more!