The captain noticed the gathering cloud, and turning to the ferryman said:
'Come, Olver, it is your turn. On my soul I am enjoying myself famously. I only wish Jack were here. Sing, lad, sing.'
Then the boatman began to roar out a ballad.
He had not gone far before Mrs. Marley snatched her daughter to her and hurried out of the room. At the same moment down came the end of Job's fiddlestick on his head.
'You dog!' said he. 'What made you sing such a ditty as that before women and children?'
'What made me?' replied Olver sulkily, as he rubbed his head. 'Why just this—that I wanted to be rid of them. How can we relish our evening when we have such as these interloping and spoiling our happiness?'
'Whose house is this? Whose punch is this? Whose pleasure is concerned?' roared the captain. 'I shall have in here just whom I will, without asking your leave; and if I suffer an ill-conditioned cur to sit here at any time, it is that I may have the satisfaction of kicking him if he misconducts himself.'
'Keep your fiddlestick off my head.'
'I shall rap your thick skull whenever you misbehave.'
'I will break it if you do.'