The suggestion was greeted with cheers. The Jackies began to urge their donkeys into line.
“Columns of four, Fighting Bob’s formation!” shouted somebody.
“Who’ll lead it?”
“Strong! Strong! We want Strong!” chanted the crowd from the Manhattan.
Men from other ships cried for their favorites, but in the end Ned was forced to the front of the parade. One of the sailors began pounding on a big brass bowl that he had bought in the bazaar. The cavalcade began to move off with a perfect army of beggars and donkey drivers following behind.
“Sing us ‘The Kearsage and the Alabama,’ Harness Cask!” hailed somebody, addressing the old sailor from the Manhattan whom we have encountered before.
“If you’ll all join in the chorus.”
“Sure we will!” roared all the tars.
“It was early Sunday morning in the year of sixty-four!”
piped up the old man, while the sailor with the brass bowl beat time;