The Cabin-boy sniffed and spoke in an undertone close to Freddie's ear.
"He'll be s-s-singing on the other s-s-side of his f-f-face before this night's o-o-over, you mark m-m-m-my wo-wo-words!"
"Lady and gentlemen"—began Mr. Mizzen.
"Ker-choo!" sneezed the parrot. "A wet sh-sh-sheet and a f-f-flowing s-s-s-sea! Three cheers f-f-for the—Ker-choo! Three cheers f-f-for hay f-f-fe-fever!"
"Down with b-b-b-both of 'em!" whispered the Cabin-boy fiercely in Freddie's ear.
"Suppose you sing us something about yourself," said Aunt Amanda.
"Ay, ay, ma'am," said Mr. Mizzen; and after playing a few chords and quivers on the guitar, he began to sing, in a voice like a fog-horn muffled by a heavy fog, the following song concerning the
LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF L. MIZZEN
"When I was a lad I was bad as I could be,
Wouldn't say 'Thank you' nor 'Please,' not me,
And at church I wouldn't kneel but only on one knee,
And at school I wouldn't study my A B C,
And I couldn't conscientious with the Golden Rule agree,
Nor understand the secret of its popularitee,
Nor get a ounce of pleasure from the Rule of Three,—
I was bad right through; sweared 'hully gee,'
And worse sometimes, like 'jiminee;'
Scrawled with a pencil on my jographee,
Stole birds' eggs in the huckleberry tree,—
Oh, I was bad; tried to learn a flea
How to keep his balance on a rolling pea,—
Oh, regular bad; and my ma, said she,
'If you don't be better than what you be,
I'll put you in the cupboard and turn the key.'
But I wouldn't and I wouldn't, no sirree,