"A new one! What's that, Dolly?"
"A real pot o' ginger, I tell you. It's called 'On the Road to Ascot.' I've got a hat four foot across to sing it in."
"Come on, Dolly, let's have a rehearsal while we wait."
"No, no; the young lady here wouldn't understand."
"I'd be very glad to hear it," cried Mary MacLean. "Please don't let me prevent you."
"The words were written to the hat. I couldn't sing the verses without the hat. But there's a nailin' good chorus to it:
"'If you want a little mascot
When you're on the way to Ascot,
Try the lady with the cartwheel hat.'"
She had a tuneful voice and a sense of rhythm which set every one nodding. "Try it now all together," she cried; and the strange little haphazard company sang it with all their lungs.
"I say," said Billy, "that ought to wake somebody up. What? Let's try a shout all together."
It was a fine effort, but there was no response. It was clear that the management down below was quite ignorant or impotent. No sound came back to them.