He therefore began with the name of Webber, who responded "Here," and proceeding to note who was present, he drawled the name or familiar sobriquet of each in turn, till all had admitted they were personally in attendance.
"Ahem," said Jim, at the end of this impressive ceremony. "Now we'll sing a hymn. What hymn do you fellows prefer?"
There was not a great confusion of replies; in fact, the confusion resulted from a lack thereof.
"As no one indicates a preference," announced the miner, "we'll tackle 'Darling, I am growing old.' Are there any objections? All in favor?—contrary minded?—the motion prevails. Now, then, all together—'Darling—'Why don't you all git in?"
"How does she go?" inquired Webber.
"She goes like this," Jim replied, clearing his throat:
"'Darling, I am growing o-old,
Silver bars among the gold;
Shine upon—te dum te dumpty—
Far from the old folks at home.'"
"Don't know it," said a voice.
"Neither do I."
"Nor I."