“Of course we do,” declared Tess haughtily.
“Miss Hastings says we sing it fine,” said Dot eagerly, and trotted after her sister.
Facing an audience did not trouble Tess and Dot in the least. They had once played in a real play; and they had often sung and recited at school concerts. They mounted to the platform as the orchestra struck up a queer melody, and together, and hand-in-hand, began the song Bill Bowling had first taught them.
To the amazement of Ruth and the others it was a real Irish “come-all-ye,” and although the words might not have been altogether well-chosen, they were funny. When the little girls came to the chorus and, with appropriate gestures, emphatically half recited and half sang it, the audience burst into a roar of laughter that almost drowned the children’s voices:
Tess (stamping):—“And what did Dooley do to him?”
Dot (stamping):—“He vowed he was not tr-u-ue to him!”
Tess (stamping):—“Did Dooley owe him money?”
Together:—“No! (Pause.) He shtole McCarthy’s pants!”
The serious air with which Tess and Dot rendered these lines almost convulsed their own family. Even Ruth was helpless, although for a few moments she felt shocked. It was, after all, just a funny song, made more funny by the way it was rendered and the character of the singers. Tess and Dot realized that they had made a hit and sang the three verses with gusto.
“That Neale O’Neil!” murmured Ruth, turning to Mr. Howbridge for comfort.
But the lawyer was laughing so uproariously that she saw she would get no sympathy from him.
Agnes declared that it was “that Nalbro Hastings’ fault.” But, if it was a fault, it was something that everybody enjoyed to the utmost. Neale’s statement that the song would be “a knockout” was prophetic. Before the entertainment concluded there was a general request that the children sing “Dooley” again.
“I guess we are pretty popular,” said Tess, confidently.