"The little creature always reminds one of a fickle beauty, and Perch and I are forsaken lovers; each having felt the full force of a negative. But what is Hercules about to do?" The giant had seated himself under the shade of a blooming bough, and for the first, and probably for the last time, until translated to a happier sphere, was endeavoring to give vent to the blissful emotions of his soul by attempting the execution of a difficult piece of music; in stentorian tones invoking a certain Susannah and imploring her on no account to weep for him. As with the voice of a Cyclops, at the close of each stanza, he bellowed forth,-- "Oh, Susannah! don't you cry for me! I'm going to California with my wash-bowl on my knee!" the whole party gathered around him and listened in breathless wonder. At length the Professor remarked,-- "What a pity it is that Susannah is not now present!" "Do you think she would stop her crying?" said Toney. "I imagine she would," said the Professor. "Unless the young lady's perception of the ludicrous is very obtuse, I cannot help thinking that the musical invocation of Hercules would have the desired effect." "Will that big fellow never cease his bellowing?" asked the midshipman. "Not until he has sung the last verse," said Tom Seddon; "and the song is longer than the ninety-seventh selection of Psalms as versified by Sternhold and Hopkins." "He has already finished a multitude of staves," said Toney. "Enough to make himself a butt," said the Professor. "That is an atrocious pun," said Toney; "and perpetrated on dry land." "But on foreign land, and in the Emperor's gardens," said the Professor. "Very true," said Toney; "you escape with impunity; being on Brazilian soil." "Let us be off!" said Tom Seddon; "the sun is getting low." "And come back for Hercules to-morrow. We will find him concluding the last stanza," said Toney. "Will he sing all night?" asked the midshipman. "Hercules has great powers of endurance," said the Professor. "Come!" said Tom Seddon. And the party started for the omnibus; when Hercules arose and followed, still singing his interminable melody. The sun had disappeared behind the horizon and the full moon had arisen in all her magnificence long before they reached the suburbs of the city. As they rode along listening to the chimes of the church bells, which in Catholic countries are sounding every evening, the voice of Hercules was heard, at intervals, bellowing forth,-- "The bulgine burst, the horse run off; I thought I'd surely die! I shut my eyes to hold my breath; Susannah, don't you cry! Oh, Susannah, don't you cry for me! I'm going to California with my wash-bowl on my knee!" CHAPTER XL.