“It would,” said Jimmy proudly. “Some pathetic, that is.”
“Y-yes, it reminded me of home,” agreed Monty sentimentally. “Many is the time I’ve heard them singing just like that.”
“Heard who?” inquired Leon, with suspicion.
“The coyotes,” answered Monty, wiping away an imaginary tear.
There was a silence of long duration. Finally: “I’m not sure that the gentleman is complimentary,” murmured Jimmy, wafting a few depressed chords from the banjo. “His remark savors of—of——”
“It’s an insult,” said Dud, decisively. “He ought to be made to hear another verse.”
“There ain’t no other verse,” said Jimmy, regretfully. “Not yet. Let me see.” He strummed thoughtfully.
“Our tears together mingled
Beneath the maples there.
Said I then in choking voice: