But George rose valiantly to the occasion. He began to sing "Old Folks at Home," in a clear sweet voice, and, when he had finished, he gave a spirited rendition of "Dixie." When "Dixie" was over he made a signal to Waggie, who walked up and down the pathway on his hind legs with a comical air of pride. The expression of the pompous negro had undergone a great change. His black face was wreathed in smiles; his eyes glistened with delight; his large white teeth shone in the morning light like so many miniature tombstones. "Ya! ya! ya!" he laughed. "Doan go way. Ya! ya! Look at de dog! Ho! ho!" He reentered the house, but was soon back on the portico. With him came a handsome middle-aged man, evidently the master of the house, and a troop of children. They were seven in all, four girls and three boys, and they ranged in ages all the way from five to seventeen years. No sooner did he see them than George began another song--"Nicodemus, the Slave." This he followed by "Massa's in the cold, cold ground." As he ended the second number the children clapped their hands, and the master of the house shouted "Bravo!" Then the boy proceeded to put Waggie through his tricks. The dog rolled over and lay flat on the ground, with his paws in the air as if he were quite dead; then at a signal from his master he sprang to his feet and began to dance. He also performed many other clever tricks that sent the children into an ecstasy of delight. Watson nearly forgot his role of blind man, more than once, in his desire to see the accomplishments of the terrier. But he saved himself just in time, and contrived to impart to his usually keen eyes a dull, staring expression. By the time Waggie had given his last trick the young people had left the portico and were crowding around him with many terms of endearment. One of them, seizing the tiny animal in her arms, ran with him into the house, where he must have been given a most generous meal, for he could eat nothing more for the next twenty-four hours. The handsome man came off the portico and looked at the two supposed beggars with an expression of sympathy. "You have a nice voice, my boy," he said, turning to George. "Can't you make better use of it than this? Why don't you join the army, and sing to the soldiers?" George might have answered that he already belonged to one army, and did not feel like joining another, but he naturally thought he had better not mention this. He evaded the question, and asked if he and the "blind man" might have some breakfast. "That you can!" said the master, very cordially. "Here, Pompey, take these fellows around to the kitchen and tell Black Dinah to give them a _good_ meal. And when they are through bring them into my study. I want the boy to sing some more."