Among the dullest and gravest of us, and even some of the most high-minded, there is often a latent longing for this kind of happy idiotic fooling, and a grateful fondness for those who can supply it without effort and who delight in doing so. Barty was the precursor of the Arthur Robertses and Fred Leslies and Dan Lenos of our day, although he developed in quite another direction!
Then of a sudden he would sing some little twopenny love-ballad or sentimental n****r melody so touchingly that one had the lump in the throat; poor Snowdrop would weep by spoonfuls!
By-the-way, it suddenly occurs to me that I’m mixing things up—confusing Sundays and week-days; of course our Sunday evenings were quiet and respectable, and I much preferred them when he and I were alone; he was then another pers
