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Updated: September 19, 2025
In the midst of this, a part broke off and took up, discordantly, the refrain, "Polly, put the kettle on, we'll all have tea;" others complicated the confusion further with, "Cruel, cruel Polly Hopkins, treat me so, oh, treat me so!" till they fell, at last, into an indistinguishable jumble and clamor, from which extricated themselves now and again and prevailed, the choruses of "Upidee," and "Bum-bum-bye," with an occasional drum-beat of emphasis given upon the door.
He sang "Upidee" with an accent which threw me into such ecstasies that it brought the whole boat to hear him, and we all gave him backsheesh. But his piety was what captivated us. I heard afterwards that no fewer than ten of us privately resolved to give him Bibles.
Nicolai Alexandrovich, our guide, whose canoe preceded ours, sang for our entertainment some of the monotonous melancholy songs of the Kamchadals, and Dodd and I in turn made the woods ring with the enlivening strains of "Kingdom Coming" and "Upidee."
Pretty soon the boys were singing "Bingo," "Upidee," "Nellie Was a Lady," and other college songs. Every one of them seemed familiar with "Paddy Duffy's Cart" and its pretty chorus: "Twinkling stars are laughing, love, Laughing on you and me, While your bright eyes look into mine, Peeping stars they seem to be."
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