"Dese liddle batrol boads," he said in his peroration, "how touching to the heart is der vork! Some of us forget ven ve are safe on land how much ve owe to them. But no matter vot your nationality, ven you are on the high seas, surrounded with darkness and dangers, not knowing ven you shall be torpedoed, vot a grade affection you feel then to dese liddle batrol boads! As a citizen of Sweden I speak vot I _know_. The ships of my guntry have suffered much in dis war. The sailors of my guntry have been thrown into the water by thousands through der submarines. But dese liddle batrol boads, they save them from drowning. They give them blankets and hot goffee. They restore them to their veeping mothers." Mr. Neilsen closed amid tumultuous applause, and when the collection was taken up by Miss Depew his contribution was the largest of the evening. The rest of the entertainment consisted chiefly of music and recitation. Mr. Pennyfeather contributed a song, composed by himself. Typewritten copies of the words were issued to the audience; and a very fat and solemn Spaniard accompanied him with thunderous chords on the piano. Every one joined in the chorus; but Mr. Neilsen did not like the song at all. It was concerned with Mr. Pennyfeather's usual gruesome subject; and he rolled it out in a surprisingly rich barytone with the gusto of a schoolboy: _If they sink us we shall be All the nearer to the sea! That's no hardship to deplore! We've all been in the sea before._ _Chorus_: _And then we'll go a-rambling, A-rambling, a-rambling, With all the little lobsters From Frisco to the Nore._ _If we swim it's one more tale, Round the hearth and over the ale; When your lass is on your knee, And love comes laughing from the sea._ _Chorus_: _And then we'll go a-rambling, A-rambling, a-rambling, A-rambling through the roses That ramble round the door._ _If we drown, our bones and blood Mingle with the eternal flood. That's no hardship to deplore! We've all been in the sea before._ _Chorus_: _And then we'll go a-rambling, A-rambling, a-rambling, The road that Jonah rambled And twenty thousand more._ "Now," said Mr. Pennyfeather, holding out his hands like the conductor of a revival meeting, "all the ladies, very softly, please." The solemn Spaniard rolled his great black eyes at the audience, and repeated the refrain _pianissimo_, while the silvery voices caroled: _With all the little lobsters From Frisco to the Nore._ "Now, all the gentlemen, please," said Mr. Pennyfeather. The Spaniard's eyes flashed. He rolled thunder from the piano, and Mr. Neilsen found himself bellowing with the rest of the audience: _The road that Jonah rambled From Hull to Singapore, And twenty thousand, thirty thousand, Forty thousand, fifty thousand, Sixty thousand, seventy thousand, Eighty thousand more!_