"
Mrs. Bates whisked herself on to the piano-stool and began to play and to
sing. Her touch was heavy and spirited, but her voice was easily audible
above the instrument.
"'Old Dan Tucker, he got drunk;
He jumped in the fire and he kicked up a chunk
Of red-hot charcoal with his shoe.
Lordy! how the ashes flew-hoo!'"
Jane dropped the daguerreotype in time to take up the refrain:
"'Clear the road for old Dan Tucker!
You're too late to get your supper.
Clear the road for old Dan--'"
"Aha! you know it!" cried Mrs. Bates, gayly.
"Of course," responded Jane. "My education may be modern, on the whole;
but it hasn't neglected the classics completely! Gentlemen forward!" she
said, with a sudden cry, which sent Mrs. Bates's fingers back to the
keyboard; "_gentlemen_ forward to Mister Tucker!" Mrs. Bates pounded
loudly, and Jane pirouetted up to her from behind.
"_Ladies_ forward to Mister Tucker!" cried Jane, and Mrs. Bates left the
stool and began dancing towards her. Then she danced back and took her
seat again; but with the first chord:
"ALL forward to Mister Tucker!" called Jane again; and they met face to
face in the middle of the room and burst out laughing. The door opened on
a narrow crack, and there appeared Miss Peters's plaintive and inquiring
countenance.
Mrs. Bates banished her assistant by one look of pathetic protest.
"There!" she said, transferring the look to Jane, "you see how it always
is when I am trying to have a good time! Even at my own table I can't
budge or crack a joke; with those two men behind my chair I feel like my
own tombstone.
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