s
comin' along, and he was awful hungry, cos the little fishes what he
likes to eat all went down to the bottom of the ocean when it began to
storm, and whales can't go to the bottom of the ocean, cos they have to
come up to breeve, an' little fishes don't. An' Jonah found 'twas all
dark inside the whale, and there wasn't any fire there, an' it was all
wet, and he couldn't take off his clothes to dry, cos there wasn't no
place to hang 'em, an' there wasn't no windows to look out of, nor
nothin' to eat, nor nothin' nor nothin' nor nothin.' So he asked the
Lord to let Mm out, an' the Lord was sorry for him, an' he made the
whale go up close to the land, an' Jonah jumped right out of his mouth,
an' WASN'T he glad? An' then he went to Nineveh, an' done what the Lord
told him to, and he ought to have done it in the first place if he had
known what was good for him."

"Done first payshe, know what's dood for him," asserted Toddie, in
support of his brother's assertion. "Tell us 'nudder story."

"Oh, no, sing us a song," suggested Budge.

"Shing us shong," echoed Toddie.

I searched my mind for a song, but the only one which came promptly was
"M'Appari," several bars of which I gave my juvenile audience, when
Budge interrupted me, saying:--

"I don't think that's a very good song."

"Why not, Budge?"

"Cos I don't. I don't know a word what you're talking 'bout."

"Shing 'bout 'Glory, glory, hallelulyah,'" suggested Toddie, and I
meekly obeyed. The old air has a wonderful influence over me. I heard
it in western camp-meetings and negro-cabins when I was a boy; I saw
the 22d Massachusetts march down Broadway, singing the same air during
the rush to the front during the early days of the war; I have heard it
sung by warrior tongues in nearly every Southern State; I heard it
roared by three hundred good old Hunker Democrats as they escorted New
York's first colored regiment to their place of embarkation; my old
brigade sang it softly, but with a swing that was terrible in its
earnestness, as they lay behind their stacks of arms just before going
to action; I have heard it played over the grave of many a dead
comrade; the semi-mutinous--the cavalry became peaceful and patriotic
again as their band-master played the old air after having asked
permission to try HIS hand on them; it is the same that burst forth
spontaneously in our barracks, on that glorious morning when we learned
that the war was over, and it was sung, wit