front, lifted his left foot and scratched his right shin with his
heel, till a sharp rap on the ankle brought the foot down to the ground
again, and caused him to brace up stiffly, drawling:

"Gol darned if I wouldn't be so scat I'd surrender on ther spot ter
ther red-headed gals in bloomers."

These words do not look very humorous in print, but they sounded
comical as they came from the mouth of that raw countryman, and the
crowd roared with laughter again.

"Be me soul!" exclaimed Barney. "It's yersilf thot knows a hape more
thin Oi thought yez did. Ye show yer good judgmint in surrunderin' to
th' girruls, fer wan av thim alone wud capture yez av she set out to,
an' ould Nick take th' countysoign--she wudn't nade it!"

Next the country lad was invited to sing, "to develop his vocal organs."

"Oh, say!" he awkwardly grinned. "I can't sing--I really can't, by
gum!"

"Oh, you vos too modest alretty yet," declared Hans. "You peen goin'
to ged ofer dot britty soon pime-by."

"But I hain't got no voice, an' I can't sing a tune no more than a mule
kin."

"Me b'y," said Barney, "Oi admire yer modesty, but ye'll foind it
necessary to sing fer th' intertainmint av Ould Gunn an' under
professors av ye stay in th' academy, so ye moight as well begin now."

"You'll laff."

"Nivver moind that."

"It will sp'ile me so I can't sing. If I couldn't see ye laff I might
do----"

"Dot vos all righdt," declared Hans. "You bet my life we been aple to
feex dot britty soon right avay queek. Shust gif me your bocket
handerkerchief."

"Whut you want of it?"

"Nefer you mindt dot. Shust gif me to id."

The country boy produced the handkerchief, and Hans quickly folded it
in a thick strip about three inches wide.

"Now I feex id britty shlick so you don'd see us laugh oudt loudt," he
said, as he quickly tied the handkerchief over the boy's eyes, while
several of the others made Ephraim submit and stand with his little
fingers still glued to the seams of his trousers.

In a few seconds the boy from Vermont was securely blindfolded.

"Now you sing dot song," commanded Hans.

"Whut shell I sing?"

"'Yankee Doodle,' begobs!" cried Barney. "It's patriotic songs Ould
Gunn admoires."

"I can't git the tune," said Ephraim, "an' I don't know the words of
only jest one varse."

"Well, sing pwhat yez know, an' kape repeating it over an' over till
yez are told to stop."

"Dot vos der stuff. Let her go, Gallup!"

So