guess there was nothing Doc couldn't do if he tried, though why
accordion was more than I could answer. But it wasn't loafing that kept
him stuffed in a hot shed all day, wheezing polkas out of the
hurdy-gurdy, but a real good idea of improving on the handcart. What if
he didn't make a whole band out of himself, with a harness holding a
comb across his mouth, and a bass drum for him to kick with one foot and
a tambourine to frisk with the other. My, when he started off with "The
Stars and Stripes Forever" you might have thought he was six, with a
drum major prancing along in front! He give a demonstration that night
in the Tivoli Hotel, and drew the town; and when he come home it was
with a pocketful of silver and a couple of dates for a wedding and the
Kaiser's birthday.

After that Doc became an institution, with a pretty Kanaka girl to carry
the drum and pass round the saucer; and every night when he hadn't a
special engagement he would make the round of the bars, picking up what
little he could. If there was a ship to be sold at auction, or a public
meeting to protest against a high-handed something, it got to be the
fashion to plaster the notice of it on Doc's back, him playing under a
tree for all he was worth with the sweat pouring down his face, while
all hands turned out to see what was the rumpus. He made money hand over
fist, and would have paid for his keep only I wouldn't have it. We had
grown to be sort of friends, him and me, from both having so much to
bear--for he was too proud and highly educated a man to like making a
monkey of himself, and it ground into him hard, and with me it was
Rosie, Rosie, Rosie.

Oh, God, what things I had to put up with! What endless mortifications!
What everlasting, heartbreaking scenes and scandals! She got to
following me to Council meetings, bellowing like a wildcat, and clawing
the policeman who was ordered to put her out; and again and again I had
to leave in the middle to try and get her home, half the beach tagging
along with us, laughing and jeering till I could have died of shame.

The day I resigned from the Council, being unable to stand it any
longer, I was sitting in the front room, with my head in my hands, when
Doc came in, and patted me on the back.

"Too bad," he says, "too bad."

"Oh, Doc," I says, "I'm the most miserable chap alive."

"It's bound to end some time," he remarked.

I shook my head. We had no means of taking care of lunatics, and that