“You pet my poots!” grinned the Dutch boy. “Id makes me think der time uf dot Hodge vos hazed der oldt poathouse in. You tidn’t like dot so much as you might, eh, Partly?” “I can’t say that I ever took to hazing much,” confessed Hodge, who looked moody and worried. “Yaw, dot vos der trute. Dot vos der nighd ven I sing dot peautiful hymn caldt ‘Bull For der Shore.’ I remember me dot song. Id vent someding dis a vay: “Bull vor der shore, sailor, bull vor der shore, Ged indo dot lifepoat, undt ged der roof off, Shbit on your handts, sailor, undt let her rip, Uf you dond’d prace up, you ged left alretty yet.” Dunnerwust roared forth the song as loudly as he could, and Frank hastened to stop him, laughing as he said: “Good gracious, Hans! this is no menagerie! It is a first-class hotel, and we’ll be fired out if we make such unearthly noises in the rooms.” “I don’d toldt you so?” exclaimed the Dutch boy in surprise. “Don’d der beople der hodel in abbreciate goot musicks?” “Possibly they do when they hear it.” “Vell, oben der toor und gif um der chance uf their lifes. I vos goin’ to sing again alretty soon.” “If you try it, I’ll throw you out of the window!” Diamond gave a sigh of relief. “Talk about a Chinese orchestra!” he muttered. “There are other things quite as bad.” Hans looked sad. “I vos afraidt mein voice vos not abbreciated,” he said. “Id vos hardt ven a veller feels so goot he vants to varble like der pirds und der friendts uf him von’t gif him a shance. Oxcuse me vile I shed a tear. Vill somepody lent me an onions?” “Oi’m glad ye’ve got somebody to hold ye down, ye Dutch chaze,” grinned Barney. “It’s mesilf has been unable intoirely to kape th’ Dutchmon shtill, Frankie. It’s in danger av bein’ arristed he has put us twinty toimes a day.” “What I want to know,” said Frank, “is how it happens that I find you two together here in San Francisco.” “Vale,” said Hans, “I comes me oudt here to visit mein cousin, Fritz, undt I runs me acrost Parney.” “But, Barney, the last I knew of you you were in London with your Sister Bridget. I didn’t suppose you were in America.” “It’s an accidint Oi’m here at all, at all,” averred the Irish lad. “An’ it’s yesilf thot’ll be moighty interisted whin Oi tells yez how thot accidint happened.” “Yah,” nodded Hans; “he vos sure to trop deat ven you toldt him der odder berson of dot vas San Vrancisco in.” “I am getting intensely interested already,” said Frank. “Go ahead, Barney, and tell the story. We’ll all sit down and listen.” “Excuse me if I lie down,” murmured Browning, as he stretched his massive frame on a couch. “I am troubled of late with that tired feeling.” “Vot you took vor him?” asked Hans, anxiously. “I’d vos tangerous ven you let him go und don’t took nottings.” “The best thing I have found to take for it is a rest.” “Do you know why the Chinese make such good actors?” asked Rattleton. “You toldt me dot.”