having drained another glass of champagne, began in a weak and rather shaky voice,
"'When other lips and other hearts
Their tales of love shall tell.'
"Gentlemen, I'm not in good voice to-night.
"'In language whose excess imparts
The power they feel so well;
When hollow hearts shall wear a mask,'
"Here, Hans, old boy, I'll take another glass of Chablis—
"Twill break your own to see,
In such a moment I but a—a—a—sk
That you'll remember me.'"
Here a tremendous chorus, led by Mr. Ahlberg, broke in, accompanied with much pounding on the table, and a rhythmic jingling of glasses:
"Then you'll remember me, boys,
Then you'll remember me."
Mr. Cole, very much annoyed and preposterously dignified, began to protest.
"Gentlemen—er—beloved brethren, I mean gentlemen, this song is a sentimental one—a sentimental song, d'ye hear—and does not admit of a convivial chorus. Now, I'll give you the last verse over."
Mr. Cole, looking lackadaisically at the ceiling, began again. When he reached the last line, again an uproarious chorus took the words out of his
