"Never tell us ye left your music at home on the piano rack! Ye did not, for ye couldn't, unless ye were to leave your head there too. For it's in that round head o' yours that ye carry the finest ripertor of good tunes and words with them of any man in the country. There's not a postmaster in all these great United States that has the songs an' the music in him that ye have," McQuade cajoled. "It's right hard on the voice," complained Jethniah, standing on professional grounds, "to sing after heavy eatin'." "Eatin'?" said McQuade contemptuously. "I don't call that eatin' at all. We'll _eat_ after we've had a song or two. You'll sing, an' I'll sing, an' we'll all sing. Out with the tunin' fork!" "Can't you tell a few lies, till we get our breath?" Jethniah suggested weakly. "No. We'll have all the night to tell stories in after the girls are in bed. Now we'll sing," McQuade announced mercilessly. Jethniah brought out the tuning fork reluctantly, snapping it critically and holding it up to his ear and listening doubtfully to the tone. He seemed to be artistically dissatisfied with the instrument and to be very hopeless as to the success of the whole project of singing. The truth was that he knew he was not in good fettle for singing and he was nervous about Wardwell and Augusta because they were, after all, strangers, and they might laugh. But when McQuade had cleared away the pans of snow, Jethniah stretched himself as far as he dared and began to take an interest. He struck the tuning fork on the table several times, and as he listened his face became each time a little more hopeful. Finally he caught the tone satisfactorily and announced, with a rising sweep of his free hand: "_Oh He Hum Ha-a-a-ah_," crescendo, and holding the last note while he beamed and nodded hopefully around his audience. "We will sing 'John Brown's Body' first," Jethniah announced. He arose manfully and smote the tuning fork sharply on the table. And again he gave the key note, this time with authority and confidence. "All sing!" It was rather a straggling performance, for the boys and men working around the fires came along two or three notes behind the leaders, and McQuade and Wardwell were so full of sugar that they could hardly do more than grunt. But when Jethniah heard Augusta's voice with him he took mighty heart and together they carried it through to a triumph. Jethniah now awoke to the possibilities of the occasion. He had come here primarily to eat sugar. But in the prospect of a brilliant singing affair he was willing to forget even the first sugar eating of the season. If only he had not eaten quite so much already! He next called for "Annie Laurie," and when that went through to a decided success, Jethniah was so carried that he insisted on rendering the "Kerry Dancers," which he had learned on Sundays spent fishing with McQuade. And McQuade returned the compliment in a way that went to Mr. Gamblin's heart.