The gentle May hath pa.s.sed away, the rose-leaves all are dead; That faithless humming-bird so gay on wanton wing hath fled, Nor cometh there to mourn their fate, but seeks a southern sun; And thou hast left me desolate, thou false and cruel one.

"Perch is thinking of the beautiful Imogen and the scene in Colonel Hazlewood's garden," said Toney to the Professor. "Neither you nor he seem to have a very favorable opinion of the humming-bird."

"The little creature always reminds one of a fickle beauty, and Perch and I are forsaken lovers; each having felt the full force of a negative. But what is Hercules about to do?"

The giant had seated himself under the shade of a blooming bough, and for the first, and probably for the last time, until translated to a happier sphere, was endeavoring to give vent to the blissful emotions of his soul by attempting the execution of a difficult piece of music; in stentorian tones invoking a certain Susannah and imploring her on no account to weep for him. As with the voice of a Cyclops, at the close of each stanza, he bellowed forth,--

"Oh, Susannah! don't you cry for me!

I'm going to California with my wash-bowl on my knee!"

the whole party gathered around him and listened in breathless wonder.

At length the Professor remarked,--

"What a pity it is that Susannah is not now present!"

"Do you think she would stop her crying?" said Toney.

"I imagine she would," said the Professor. "Unless the young lady's perception of the ludicrous is very obtuse, I cannot help thinking that the musical invocation of Hercules would have the desired effect."

"Will that big fellow never cease his bellowing?" asked the midshipman.

"Not until he has sung the last verse," said Tom Seddon; "and the song is longer than the ninety-seventh selection of Psalms as versified by Sternhold and Hopkins."

"He has already finished a mult.i.tude of staves," said Toney.

"Enough to make himself a b.u.t.t," said the Professor.

"That is an atrocious pun," said Toney; "and perpetrated on dry land."

"But on foreign land, and in the Emperor's gardens," said the Professor.

"Very true," said Toney; "you escape with impunity; being on Brazilian soil."

"Let us be off!" said Tom Seddon; "the sun is getting low."

"And come back for Hercules to-morrow. We will find him concluding the last stanza," said Toney.

"Will he sing all night?" asked the midshipman.

"Hercules has great powers of endurance," said the Professor.

"Come!" said Tom Seddon. And the party started for the omnibus; when Hercules arose and followed, still singing his interminable melody.

The sun had disappeared behind the horizon and the full moon had arisen in all her magnificence long before they reached the suburbs of the city. As they rode along listening to the chimes of the church bells, which in Catholic countries are sounding every evening, the voice of Hercules was heard, at intervals, bellowing forth,--

"The bulgine burst, the horse run off; I thought I'd surely die!

I shut my eyes to hold my breath; Susannah, don't you cry!

Oh, Susannah, don't you cry for me!

I'm going to California with my wash-bowl on my knee!"

CHAPTER XL.

Upon returning to the city, M. T. Pate met with a misfortune, which gave him sad affliction when he afterwards came to reflect upon his folly. He had throughout the whole course of his life been a very temperate man, and on Sundays was exceedingly pious. But he and Hercules were now seduced by a party of dissolute fellows, who kept them in a state of inebriation for several days. In fact, Hercules got profoundly intoxicated, and continued in that condition until he was carried on board the ship when she was about to sail; while Pate became boisterous and broke a number of goblets and decanters, and even challenged the proprietor of the hotel to a pugilistic combat. The latter earnestly implored the interposition of Toney Belton, who, upon going to Pate's room, found him standing in the midst of a number of boon-companions, with a bottle in his grasp, making as much noise as was possible by bellowing forth the following baccha.n.a.lian melody:

The ruby wine sparkles so bright in the bowl, To pleasure it seems to invite; And, by heavens, I vow he's a pitiful soul Who scorneth our revels to night.

Let sages discourse on the follies of man, And learnedly talk of his woes; But boys, we'll be happy whilever we can,-- So toss off the goblet!--here goes!

Oh, why should we mourn o'er the sorrows of earth, And turn from its pleasures away?

He's wiser by far who turns sorrow to mirth, And tastes of life's joys while he may.

When all that the sages have taught is summed up, Can it lessen one moment our woes?

Oh, no! but they linger not over the cup,-- So toss off the goblet!--here goes!

When this song was concluded, Toney began to express his astonishment at Pate's conduct, but his voice was soon drowned by several fellows loudly singing,--

Silvery dews are falling lightly, Golden stars are twinkling brightly, Now's the hour when Pleasure greets us, Round the festive board she meets us, When we mingle heart and soul O'er the flowing, foaming bowl.

"But, Mr. Pate, you will be sorry for this when----"

Farewell now to care and sorrow!

They our moments ne'er shall borrow;-- We, the joyous sons of folly, Leave to sages melancholy, When we mingle heart and soul O'er the flowing, foaming bowl.

"Yes, this is fine fun," said Toney; "but after awhile you will have trouble, and----"

If the ills of life surround us, If misfortune's arrows wound us, Still a balm we may discover In the b.u.mper running over, When we mingle heart and soul O'er the flowing, foaming bowl.

"By heavens, you ought to have a strait-jacket!" said Toney. "Ain't you a pretty picture?--standing there with your coat off and your breeches rent in the rear! I wish some of the ladies whom you used to be making love to could now see----"

Cupid is a treacherous urchin, With his darts each bosom searching; If we've false and cruel found him, On the b.u.mper's brim we'll drown him, When we mingle heart and soul O'er the flowing, foaming bowl.