The nights bring merriment, not sleep. The
general goes with his staff to the hospitable mansion, and soon the
great drawing-room is full of music and laughter. The song, the dance,
the rattling banjo follow. The long hours flit by like a flock of
summer birds, and Sweeney, our old friend Sweeney, is the king of the
revel.
For Sweeney rattles as before on his banjo; and the "Old Gray Horse"
flourishes still in imperishable youth! It is the same old Sweeney,
with his mild and deferential courtesy, his obliging smile, his
unapproachable skill in "picking on the string." Listen! his voice
rings again as in the days of '61 and '62. He is singing still "Oh
Johnny Booker, help this nigger!" "Stephen, come back, come back,
Stephen!" "Out of the window I did sail!" "Sweet Evelina," and the
grand, magnificent epic which advises you to "Jine the Cavalry!"
Hagan listens to him yonder with a twinkle of the eye--Hagan the
black-bearded giant, the brave whose voice resembles thunder, the
devotee and factotum of Stuart, whom he loves. And Sweeney rattles on.
You laugh loud as you listen. The banjo laughs louder than all, and the
great apartment is full of uproar, and mirth, and dance.
Then the couples sink back exhausted; a deep silence follows; Sweeney
has made you laugh, and is now going to make you sigh.
Pages:
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136