Trailin'! Part 33

"Oh, my name's Sam'l Hall--Sam'l Hall; My name's Sam'l Hall--Sam'l Hall.

My name is Sam'l Hall, And I hate you one an' all, You're a gang of muckers all-- d.a.m.n your eyes!"

"Listen!" said Lawlor, turning to his guest with a deprecating wave of the hand. "A cook what sings! Which in the old days I wouldn't have had a b.u.m like that around my place, but there ain't no choosin' now."

The voice from the kitchen rolled out louder:

"I killed a man, they said, so they said; I killed a man, they said, so they said.

I killed a man they said, For I hit 'im on the head, And I left him there for dead-- d.a.m.n your eyes!"

"Hey! Shorty Kilrain!" bellowed the aggravated host.

He turned to Bard.

"What'd you do with a b.u.m like that for a cook?"

"Pay him wages and keep him around to sing songs. I like this one.

Listen!"

"They put me in the quad--in the quad; They put me in the quad--in the quad.

They put me in the quad, They chained me to a rod, And they left me there, by G.o.d-- d.a.m.n your eyes!"

"Kilrain, come here and make it fast or I'll d.a.m.n your eyes!"

He explained to Bard: "Got to be hard with these fellers or you never get nowhere with 'em."

"Yo ho!" answered the voice of the singer, and approached booming:

"The parson he did come, he did come; The parson he did come--did come.

The parson he did come, He looked almighty glum, He talked of kingdom come--.

d.a.m.n your eyes!"

Shorty loomed in the doorway and caught his hand to his forehead in a nautical salute. He had one bad eye, and now it squinted as villainously as if he were the real _Sam'l Hall_.

"Righto sir. What'll you have, mate?"

"Don't mate me, you igner'nt sweepin' of the South Sea, but trot up some red-eye--and gallop."

The ex-sailor s.h.i.+fted his quid so that it stuck far out in the opposite cheek with such violence of pressure that a little spot of white appeared through the tan of the skin. He regarded Lawlor for a silent moment with bodeful eyes.

"What the h.e.l.l are you lookin' at?" roared the other. "On your way!"

The features of Kilrain twitched spasmodically.

"Righto, sir."

Another salute, and he was off, his voice coming back less and less distinctly.

"So up the rope I'll go, I will go; So up the rope I'll go--I'll go.

So up the rope I'll go With the crowd all down below Yelling, 'Sam, I told you so!'

d.a.m.n their eyes!"

CHAPTER XXV

HAIR LIKE THE SUNs.h.i.+NE

"Well," grumbled Lawlor, settling back comfortably into his chair, "one of these days I'm goin' to clean out my whole gang and put in a new one.

They maybe won't be any better but they can't be any wuss."

Nevertheless, he did not seem in the least downhearted, but apparently had some difficulty in restraining his broad grin.

The voice of the grim cook returned:

"I'll see Nelly in the crowd, in the crowd; I'll see Nelly in the crowd, in the crowd; I'll see Nelly in the crowd, And I'll holler to her loud: 'Hey, Nelly, ain't you proud-- d.a.m.n your eyes?'"

"I ask you," cried Lawlor, with freshly risen wrath, "is that any way to go around talkin' about women?"

"Not talking. He's singing," answered Bard. "Let him alone."

The thunder of their burly Ganymede's singing rose and echoed about them.

"And this shall be my knell, be my knell; And this shall be my knell--my knell.

And this shall be my knell: 'Sam, I hope you go to h.e.l.l, Sam, I hope you sizzle well-- d.a.m.n your eyes!'"

Shorty Kilrain appeared in the doorway, his mouth wide on the last, long, wailing note.

"Shorty," said Lawlor, with a sort of hopeless sadness, "ain't you never been educated to sing no better songs than that?"

"Why, you old, grey-headed--" began Shorty, and then stopped short and hitched his trousers violently.

Lawlor pushed the bottle of whisky and gla.s.s toward Bard.