"Oh, bother ould Garibaldi!" he said. "Can't you play something else?"
"I wish I could," thought Dan. "Suppose I compose something."
Accordingly he tried to play an air popular enough at the time, but made bad work of it.
"Stop him! stop him!" exclaimed the German, who had a better musical ear than the Irishman. "Here, lend me your fiddle, boy."
He took the violin, and in spite of his inebriety, managed to play a German air upon it.
"Shure you bate the boy at his own trade," said the Irishman. "You must be dhry. What'll you have now?"
The German indicated his preference, and the Irishman called for whisky.
"What'll you have, Johnny?" he asked, addressing Dan.
"I no drink," answered our hero, shaking his head.