Kees me hagain and hagain,
Kees me hagain, kees me hagain,
Kees me, kees me, hagain!”
When he had finished, Velvet Pants bowed deeply first to Janey, then to the rest. There was a slight, dubious ripple of applause that was checked suddenly. Pete High had strode up to Velvet Pants and was facing him.
“Just a minute there,” said Pete. “You and me has got a little bone to pick. Wadda you mean by singing a song like that to Miss Crosby?”
The small man looked puzzled.
“It ees only song American I know,” he said.
“Yeah? Well, I’m goin’ to teach you to sing it out of the other side of your mouth. Come outside with me.”
“Pete High,” broke in Janey, “don’t you go fighting with him. He didn’t mean any harm; he probably doesn’t know what the words mean.”
“I told him never to say anything to you whether he understood it or not,” stormed Pete. “Come on, you.”