"Yes, for goodness' sake do something that you really know how to do," cried Ned Rector.
Chops began swaying his body, swinging the frying pan from side to side. Then he launched into another song that set the boys joining in the chorus, swinging their own bodies, keeping time with the singer.
[CHAPTER V]
EXCITEMENT AT HUNT'S CORNERS
"Is this another of those cry-baby songs?" questioned Ned.
"Yassir."
"Go on, go on," urged the boys.
W'en de sun roll in an' de moon roll out,
An' de li'l stars git sprinkl't all erbout,
Den ah listens fer my honey an' ah calls her an' ah shout,
O Lindy, Lindy, Lindy, O my Lindy!
O Lindy, come erlong
An' listen at my song;
De mockin' bu 'd is singin' ter his honey,
Come, lemme sing ter you
An' tell you, tell you true,
Dat ah loves you mo' dan heaps er silver money,
Twice did the Pony Rider Boys roar out the chorus until they had drowned the voice of the singer entirely. In their merriment they forgot all about the breakfast, all about the thick slices of ham that had long since dropped from the frying pan of the singing Billy Veal.
"Come, come, young men," interrupted the voice of Professor Zepplin. "Singing is all right, but I want my breakfast."