"Did he pay you the money?" I heard the wife ask in an anxious tone.
"Yes, yes; more than the old pail was worth by a long chalk. I'd like to deal with that chap allers."
I now proceeded with the concert. The song of the drowning child saved by the Newfoundland dog drew down thunders of applause. When the clamour had a little subsided, a tall man rose from his seat at the upper end of the room, and, after clearing his throat with several loud hems, he thus addressed me,--"How do you do, Mr. H---? I am glad, sir, to make your acquaintance. This is my friend, Mr. Derby," drawing another tall man conspicuously forward before all the spectators. "He, tew, is very happy to make your acquaintance. We both want to know if that dog you have been singing about belongs to you. If so, we should be glad to buy a pup." He gravely took his seat, amid perfect yells of applause. It was impossible to be heard in such a riot, and I closed the adventures of the evening by giving out "'Hail, Columbia,' to be sung by all present." This finale gave universal satisfaction, and the voice of my friend the singing master might be heard far above the rest.
I was forced, in common politeness, to invite Mr. Browne to partake of the oyster supper I had provided for my friends from W---. "Will you join our party this evening, Mr. Browne?"
"Oh, by all manner of means," said he, rubbing his hands together in a sort of ecstasy of anticipation; "I knew that you would do the thing handsome at last. I have not tasted an i'ster since I sang at Niblo's in New York. But did we not come on famously at the con-sort? Confess, now, that I beat you holler. You sing pretty well, but you want confidence. You don't give expression enough to your voice. The applause which followed my first song was tremendous."
"I never heard anything like it, Mr. Browne. I never expect to merit such marks of public approbation."
"All in good time, my leetle friend," returned he, clapping me familiarly on the shoulder. "Rome was not built in a day, and you are a young man--a very young man--and very small for your age. Your voice will never have the volume and compass of mine. But I smell the i'sters: let's in, for I'm tarnation hungry."
Gentle reader! you would have thought so to have seen him eat. My companions looked rather disconcerted at the rapidity with which they disappeared within his capacious jaws. After satisfying his enormous appetite, he washed down the oysters with long draughts of porter, until his brain becoming affected, he swung his huge body back in his chair, and, placing his feet on the supper-table, began singing in good earnest,--not one song in particular, but a mixture of all that had appeared in the most popular Yankee song books for the last ten years.
I wish I could give you a specimen of the sublime and the ridiculous, thus unceremoniously huddled together. The effect was so irresistible, when contrasted with the grave exterior of the man; that we laughed until our side ached at his absurdities. Exhausted by his constant vociferations, the musician at length dropped from his chair in a drunken sleep upon the floor, and we carried him into the next room and put him to bed; and, after talking over the events of the evening, we retired about midnight to our respective chambers, which all opened into the great room in which I held the concert.
About two o'clock in the morning my sleep was disturbed by the most dismal cries and groans, which appeared to issue from the adjoining apartment. I rubbed my eyes, and sat up in the bed and listened, when I recognized the well-known voice of the singing master, exclaiming in tones of agony and fear--"Landlord! landlord! cum quick. Somebody cum. Landlord! landlord! there's a man under my bed. Oh, Lord! I shall be murdered! a man under my bed!"