ink likely."

"_I_ should think it might be. Music isn't cold enough."

"'T ain't the cold," said Uncle William, hastily. "I run acrost an
iceberg once. We was skirmishin' round up North, in a kind o' white fog,
frosty-like, and cold--cold as blazes; and all of a sudden we was on
her--close by her, somewheres, behind the frost. We wa'n't cold any
more. It was about the hottest time I ever knew," he said thoughtfully.

"What happened?"

Uncle William roused himself. "Well, after a spell we knew she wa'n't
there any more, and we cooled down some. But we wa'n't real cold--not
for much as a day or so."

The youth had returned to the piano. The audience met him with wild
applause, half-way, and he bowed solemnly from his hips. There was a
weary look in his face.

Uncle William looked him over critically. "He don't more'n half like it,
does he?"

The other man coughed a little. Then he laughed out.

Uncle William smiled genially. "I've seen his kind--a good many times.
Looks as if they was goin' to cry when you was feedin' 'em sugar. They
gen'ally like it real well, too." He consulted his program. "Goin' to do
a hammock, is he?"

The hammock began to sway, and Uncle William's big head rocked softly
in time to it. "Some like it," he said when it was done; "not enough to
make you sea-sick--jest easy swingin'."

The youth had not left the piano. He played "The Bars at Sunset," and "A
Water Lily," and "The Eagle," and then the two sea pieces. Uncle William
listened with mild attention.

When it was over and the audience had begun to disperse, Sergia came
out. She approached Uncle William, scanning his face. "How did you like
it?"

"They all done?" he demanded.

"Yes. Did you like the sea pieces?"

"I liked 'em. Yes--I liked 'em." Uncle William's tone was moderate.

Sergia was smiling at him a little. "The 'Depths of the Ocean'--you
liked that best, didn't you?"

Uncle William looked guilty. "I knew you was goin' to ask me about that
one," he said, "and I'd meant to listen hard--real hard--to it. I hain't
ever been quite so far down as that, but I thought mebbe I could
gauge it. But you see,"--his tone grew confidential and a little
apologetic,--"when they got that far along, I couldn't really tell which
was which. I wa'n't _plumb_ sure whether it was the eagle he was doin'
or the dep'hs, and it mixed me up some. I didn't jest know whether to
soar up aloft or dive considabul deep. It kep' me kind o' teeterin'