For he's a jolly good fellow
That nobody can deny . . .
Broad backs deferentially hunched follow the slowly pacing group out among the dancers. O the big baboon by the light of the moon is combing his auburn hair. "Wont you dance, please?" The girl turns a white shoulder and walks off.
I am a bachelor and I live all alone
And I work at the weaver's trade. . . .
Stan finds himself singing at his own face in a mirror. One of his eyebrows is joining his hair, the other's an eyelash. . . . "No I'm not bejases I'm a married man. . . . Fight any man who says I'm not a married man and a citizen of City of New York, County of New York, State of New York. . . ." He's standing on a chair making a speech, banging his fist into his hand. "Friends Roooomans and countrymen, lend me five bucks. . . . We come to muzzle Cæsar not to shaaaave him. . . . According to the Constitution of the City of New York, County of New York, State of New York and duly attested and subscribed before a district attorney according to the provisions of the act of July 13th 1888. . . . To hell with the Pope."
"Hey quit dat." "Fellers lets trow dis guy out. . . . He aint one o de boys. . . . Dunno how he got in here. He's drunk as a pissant." Stan jumps with his eyes closed into a thicket of fists. He's slammed in the eye, in the jaw, shoots like out of a gun out into the drizzling cool silent street. Ha ha ha.
For I am a bachelor and I live all alone
And there's one more river to cross
One more river to Jordan
One more river to cross . . .
It was blowing cold in his face and he was sitting on the front of a ferryboat when he came to. His teeth were chattering, he was shivering . . . "I'm having DT's. Who
