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The chorus: O, what can be sweet-o than dreaming Tho dream that is on us tonight! Pre-haps do you know litt-ul dau-ling, Tho future lies hidded from sight. There was a great deal more of that song, which really was not so bad, the way Banjo sang it, for he exalted it on the best qualities that lived in his harmless breast; not so bad that way, indeed, as it looks in print.
Banjo struck the chords of his accompaniment; the sentimental cast of his face deepened, until it seemed that he was about to come to tears. He sang: Come sit by my side litt-ul dau-ling, And lay your brown head on my breast, Whilse the angels of twilight o-round us Are singing the flow-ohs to rest.
Sundown was rosy behind the distant mountains, a sea of purple shadows laved their nearer feet, when Banjo got out his fiddle at Mrs. Chadron's request and sang her "favorite" along with the moving tones of that instrument. Dau-ling I am growing-a o-o-eld, Seel-vo threads a-mong tho go-o-ld As he sang, Nola slipped from the room.
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