gazed, young Brady arrived, panting, and put into
Tracy's hand,--sure enough--an envelope. Tracy fastened a bland
victorious eye upon the gazers, and kept it there till one by one they
dropped their eyes, vanquished and embarrassed. Then he tore open the
telegram and glanced at its message. The yellow paper fell from his
fingers and fluttered to the floor, and his face turned white. There was
nothing there but one word--

"Thanks."

The humorist of the house, the tall, raw-boned Billy Nash, caulker from
the navy yard, was standing in the rear of the crowd. In the midst of
the pathetic silence that was now brooding over the place and moving some
few hearts there toward compassion, he began to whimper, then he put his
handkerchief to his eyes and buried his face in the neck of the
bashfulest young fellow in the company, a navy-yard blacksmith, shrieked
"Oh, pappy, how could you!" and began to bawl like a teething baby, if
one may imagine a baby with the energy and the devastating voice of a
jackass.

So perfect was that imitation of a child's cry, and so vast the scale of
it and so ridiculous the aspect of the performer, that all gravity was
swept from the place as if by a hurricane, and almost everybody there
joined in the crash of laughter provoked by the exhibition. Then the
small mob began to take its revenge--revenge for the discomfort and
apprehension it had brought upon itself by its own too rash freshness of
a little while before. It guyed its poor victim, baited him, worried
him, as dogs do with a cornered cat. The victim answered back with
defiances and challenges which included everybody, and which only gave
the sport new spirit and variety; but when he changed his tactics and
began to single out individuals and invite them by name, the fun lost its
funniness and the interest of the show died out, along with the noise.

Finally Marsh was about to take an innings, but Barrow said:

"Never mind, now--leave him alone. You've no account with him but a
money account. I'll take care of that myself."

The distressed and worried landlady gave Barrow a fervently grateful look
for his championship of the abused stranger; and the pet of the house, a
very prism in her cheap but ravishing Sunday rig, blew him a kiss from
the tips of her fingers and said, with the darlingest smile and a sweet
little toss of her head:

"You're the only man here, and I'm going to set my cap for you, you dear
old thing!"

"