Der iron-pound pucket, der pucket vot hung der vell down indo.”
By the time he got that far the entire gathering was convulsed with laughter. As he had been singing with his eyes closed, he had not seen them laughing, but now he opened his eyes and caught his breath in preparation for starting in on the next verse.
He did not start. The shout of laughter that went up made him stagger and gasp.
He stared around blankly, and then he looked disgusted.
“Py Chorch!” he muttered, “I pelief they vos laughin’ me at!”
In high indignation he stalked to his seat, and dropped down heavily, dragging a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopping the perspiration off his face.
Frank was laughing as heartily as anyone. Even Jack Diamond was smiling.
“Oh! oh! oh!” cried Hattie Hazle, with her handkerchief over her face.
“Vale,” said Hans, sadly, “I nefer oxbected you vould laugh me at, Miss Hazles!”
“Oh! oh! oh!” gasped Hattie. “I’m—not—laughing.”