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Updated: June 11, 2025
More pupils followed young girls and old ones, and a youth with a violin that fluttered and wailed and grew harmonious at last as the youth forgot himself. Uncle William's big, round face beamed upon him. Sergia, watching him from behind the scenes, could see that he regarded them all as nice children. He would have looked the same had they played on jews'-harps and tin horns.
We had it once don't you remember? the whole crew, that time we broke down off Madagascar? 'Member how sick we felt?" Uncle William looked at him mildly. Andy's eye was fixed on the bay. "How d' you know it's the same?" he said. "Well, I don't know it's the same not just the same, but she says " "Who says?" Andy whirled about. "Why, she says Sergia says. Didn't I jest tell you, Andy?"
"Lord, no! Sergia didn't run away. She'll stan' by till the last man's hung. She's that kind." "I know." The tone was jealous. "I ought to know." "Yes, you ought to know." Uncle William left the moral to take care of itself. He did up the work, singing hopefully as he rolled about the room, giving things what he called "a lick and a promise."
Uncle William, oblivious to the glances and to the crowd that opened before him, and closed silently behind the great figure, beamed upon it all. He was used to making his way through a crowd unhindered. To Sergia the experience was more novel, and she watched the crowd and the pictures and the old man moving serene among them, with amused eyes.
"I don't see that picter of my house anywheres 'round," he said when pressed too close. "No." "You sent it off?" "Yes." The young man was silent a minute. "Sergia took them all of them when I fell sick. They were not ready not even framed. She was to send them to the committee. I have not heard." "I'll go see 'em in the mornin'," said Uncle William. "I don't know that you can "
The young man went below and slept. When he woke he felt better, as Uncle William had predicted. At Halifax he insisted on sending a telegram to Sergia. After that he watched the water with gleaming face, and when they boarded the John L. Cann and the shores of Arichat shaped themselves out of space, he was like a boy. Uncle William leaned forward, scanning the wharf. "There's Andy!" he exclaimed.
These being brought into the forum, and several matrons, to the number of twenty, in whose possession they had been detected, being summoned by the beadle, two of them, Cornelia and Sergia, both of patrician rank, maintaining that these drugs were wholesome, were directed by the informer who confronted them to drink some, that they might convict her of having stated what was false; having taken time to confer together, when, the crowd being removed, they referred the matter to the other matrons in the open view of all; they also not refusing to drink, they all drank off the preparation, and perished by their own wicked device.
You ever met a wanderin' iceberg?" His tone was friendly and solicitous. The New York man shook his head. "Only the human kind." Uncle William chuckled. "I've met that kind myself and the other kind, too." He paused suddenly. The audience had hushed itself. Sergia was seated at the piano. It was a Beethoven number, a sonata. Uncle William apparently went to sleep.
Sergia, watching him, smiled gently. He must be very tired, poor dear. The next number will keep him awake all right. It did. It was sung by a famous baritone "Fifteen men on a dead man's chest! Yo ho! Yo ho!" Uncle William sat up. Joy radiated from him. He clutched his chair with both hands and beamed. The audience laughed with delight and clapped an encore.
"Of the hull thing?" he demanded. He looked down at the program. "They was all nice," he said slowly "real nice. I dunno when I've heard nicer singin' 'n playin'. But I reckon that one was about the nicest of the lot." He laid his big thumb on a number. Sergia and the old gentleman bent to look. It was the Beethoven sonata. Sergia glanced at the old gentleman. He met the glance, smiling.
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