shed Nils down on the bench, and
went through the back door of his saloon.

Nils looked at Clara, who sat frigidly with her white skirts drawn
tight about her. "He didn't tell you he had asked me to come, did
he? He wanted a party and proceeded to arrange it. Isn't he fun?
Don't be cross; let's give him a good time."

Clara smiled and shook out her skirt. "Isn't that like father? And
he has sat here so meekly all day. Well, I won't pout. I'm glad you
came. He doesn't have very many good times now any more. There are
so few of his kind left. The second generation are a tame lot."

Joe came back with a flask in one hand and three wine-glasses caught
by the stems between the fingers of the other. These he placed on
the table with an air of ceremony, and, going behind Nils, held the
flask between him and the sun, squinting into it admiringly. "You
know dis, Tokai? A great friend of mine, he bring dis to me, a
present out of Hongarie. You know how much it cost, dis wine? Chust
so much what it weigh in gold. Nobody but de nobles drink him in
Bohemie. Many, many years I save him up, dis Tokai." Joe whipped out
his official cork-screw and delicately removed the cork. "De old man
die what bring him to me, an' dis wine he lay on his belly in my
cellar an' sleep. An' now," carefully pouring out the heavy yellow
wine, "an' now he wake up; and maybe he wake us up, too!" He carried
one of the glasses to his daughter and presented it with great
gallantry.

Clara shook her head, but, seeing her father's disappointment,
relented. "You taste it first. I don't want so much."

Joe sampled it with a beatific expression, and turned to Nils. "You
drink him slow, dis wine. He very soft, but he go down hot. You
see!"

After a second glass Nils declared that he couldn't take any more
without getting sleepy. "Now get your fiddle, Vavrika," he said as
he opened his flute-case.

But Joe settled back in his wooden rocker and wagged his big
carpet-slipper. "No-no-no-no-no-no-no! No play fiddle now any more:
too much ache in de finger," waving them, "all-a-time rheumatiz. You
play de flute, te-tety-te-tety-te. Bohemie songs."

"I've forgotten all the Bohemian songs I used to play with you and
Johanna. But here's one that will make Clara pout. You remember how
her eyes used to snap when we called her the Bohemian Girl?" Nils
lifted his flute and began "When Other Lips and Other Hearts," and
Joe hummed the air in a husky baritone, waving his