The madman sat down on one side of a small table, and motioned Hiram to occupy the chair opposite.
He did so.
'Now we are comfortable. Don't you think so? Shan't have to move, shall we? Old Meeker, d——n his soul!—don't own this house. Come, let's have a gay old time!'—and he commenced, half shouting, half singing:
'Ain't I glad to get out of the wilderness—
To get out of the wilderness,
To get out of the wilderness?—
Ain't I glad to get out of the wilderness?
Hip, hip, hurrah!'
Hiram sat pale, but not trembling. He knew his very life depended on his composure, and he believed that the noise which the madman was making would soon bring persons to the spot.
'You don't seem to like my little song,' he exclaimed, 'I will give you another.' And he shouted on:
'I wish I was a horse, as big as any elephant—
As big as any elephant,
As big as any elephant—
I wish I was a horse, as big as any elephant—
Hip, hip, hurrah!'
'That's better, ain't it?' Suddenly he turned and looked at the corpse.
'Wife—wife! who said 'wife' to me?—who said 'wife' to me?' And he burst forth more furiously than ever:
'My wife's dead, and I want another one—
And I want another one,
And I want another one—
My wife's dead, and I want another one—
Hip, hip, hurrah!'