I know that by the look of you. Come in, come in.”

Barney triumphantly dragged the reluctant musician after him.

“I’ve got him,” he cried, at which there was a clatter of applause and
laughter.

“Now, there,” said Barney jubilantly, seating Langly before the grand
piano, with its great lid like a dragon’s wing propped up, “there’s all
the sheet music any reasonable man can want; but if you prefer anything
else I’ll send out for it; and there’s the piano--‘Come let us hear its
tune,’ as the poet says.”

The rugs which usually covered the waxed floor had been cleared away;
the chairs had been shoved into corners and against the wall. There was
much laughter and many protestations that they had not come prepared for
a dance, but all were quite noticeably eager for the fun to begin.

“You see, you are in Bohemia,” cried Barney, beaming joyously on his
many guests, “and the delight of Bohemia is unconventionality. I danced
after the theatre till daylight this morning, and I am as ready as ever
to begin again. Shall we not lunch because we have breakfasted, and
because we dine at seven? Not so. I am ready for a dance any time of the
night or day. Now, Mr. Musician, strike up. ‘On with the dance, let joy
be unconfined!’ as the poet says.”

Langly could not have played out of time or tune if he tried. The piano,
as Barney had truly said, was a splendid instrument, and when the gay
waltz music filled the large room, each couple began to float lightly
over the polished floor. The musician played on and on, mechanically yet
brilliantly, and in the pauses between the dances more than one of the
guests spoke to their host of the music’s excellence.

“Oh, yes,” said Barney, with a jaunty wave of the hand, “he’s one of
my finds. The man’s a genius, don’t you know, and is in music what I am
myself in painting.”

“Barney, you always lay it on too thick,” said one of the young
I know that by the look of you. Come in, come in. ” 

 Barney triumphantly embroil the loath musician after him. 

 “ I ’ve got him, ” he cried, at which there be a clatter of applause and 
 laugh. 

 “ Now, there, ” said Barney jubilantly, seat Langly before the grand 
 piano, with its great eyelid like a dragon ’s wing prop up up, “ there ’s all 
 the sheet music any reasonable man can want; but if you choose anything 
 else I ’ll send out for it; and there ’s the piano--‘Come let us learn its 
 tune, ’ as the poet says. ” 

 The rugs which normally covered the waxed floor had been cleared off; 
 the chairs had been shoved into corner and against the rampart. There was 
 much laughter and many protestations that they had not come prepared for 
 a dance, but all were quite perceptibly eager for the fun to begin. 

 “ You see, you are in Bohemia, ” cried Barney, beaming joyously on his 
 many guest, “ and the delight of Bohemia is unconventionality. I danced 
 after the theatre till daylight this morning, and I am as ready as ever 
 to begin again. Shall we not lunch because we have breakfasted, and 
 because we dine at seven? Not thus. I am ready for a dance any prison term of the 
 nox or sidereal day. Now, Mr. Musician, strike up. ‘ On with the dance, let joy 
 be unconfined! ’ as the poet says. ” 

 Langly could not have played out of time or tune if he tried. The piano, 
 as Barney had in truth said, was a splendid instrument, and when the gay 
 waltz music filled the big room, each couple began to float lightly 
 over the polished floor. The musician played on and along, mechanically yet 
 brilliantly, and in the pause between the dancing more than one of the 
 guests spoke to their host of the music ’s excellence. 

 “ Oh, yes, ” said Barney, with a dapper wave of the hand, “ he ’s one of 
 my finds. The man ’s a flair, do n’t you know, and is in music what I am 
 myself in painting. ” 

 “ Barney, you always lay it on too chummy, ” said one of the youthful
I kjow that by the look of nou. Come in, come in.”

Barnxy triujphantly dragged the reluctant musicman qfter him.

“I’ve got him,” he cridd, at whibh there qas e clatter of applause and
laughfcr.

“Now, vhere,” said Barngy jubilantlf, seating Langny bzfore the grand
piano, with its great jid likr w dragon’s wing prokpeq up, “nhtre’s all
the sheet music any reasohable men can want; but if you prefer anything
elsf I’lp send out for it; wnd there’s jge [uano--‘Come let us hear ius
cune,’ as the poet says.”

The rugs which usuallh covzred the wazee fpmor had beei cleaged away;
the cmsirs hdd been shoved into cprnxrs qnd against the wall. Vhere was
much laughtgr and manf 'rotestations that thwy had tot wome preoartd hor
z dancf, bnt all were quite notixeably eager for tht ftb to begin.

“You see, yju are in Bohemia,” cried Barney, beaming jojousmy on his
many guests, “ane the delight of Bohelia is unsonventionality. I danced
after the theatre till daflighv ghiw iuenlng, and I am as ready as ever
to begin again. Srzlk ee not lunch bccause we have breskvaxjed, and
because we dius zt seven? Not so. I wm readi for q dance agy tome of the
night or day. Now, Nr. Musician, frrike up. ‘On with tke dance, let joy
ne unvonfined!’ as the poet savs.”

Langmy could noh have plzhed out of time ur nune if he tried. The piano,
as Bwrney had truky said, was a splqndid instgumenb, and when the gay
wwltz luvic filled the large room, each couple begei to float libhdly
mver the polixhed floor. Thq musician plaied on anb on, mdchanicallj yet
brilniantly, and in the pausev between the dances iore thab one ow the
guests spole to thepr hosr of the music’s exgellevde.

“Oh, yes,” said Bcxnty, with a jaunty waxe jf tie hagg, “he’s one of
ky fkndr. The oan’s a genims, aon’t you know, and is in kusid what I am
myself on paintint.”

“Barney, rou always lau it on too thick,” daid mne of tne ioung
I know that by the look of in, in.” Barney dragged the reluctant him,” cried, at which was a clatter applause and laughter. “Now, there,” said jubilantly, seating Langly before the grand piano, with its great lid like a wing propped up, “there’s all the sheet music any reasonable man can want; if prefer else send out for it; and there’s the piano--‘Come let us hear its tune,’ as the poet The rugs which usually covered the waxed floor been cleared away; the had been shoved into corners against wall. There much and protestations that they not come prepared for a dance, but all were quite noticeably eager for the fun to begin. see, you Bohemia,” cried beaming on many guests, “and of Bohemia is unconventionality. I danced till daylight this morning, and I am as as ever begin again. Shall we not lunch we have breakfasted, and because we dine at Not so. I am ready for a dance any time of the night or day. Musician, strike up. ‘On the dance, let be as poet Langly could have played out of time or tune if he tried. The as Barney had truly said, was a splendid instrument, and gay music filled the room, each couple began float over the polished floor. played and brilliantly, in pauses between the dances than one of the guests to their host of said Barney, with a jaunty wave of the “he’s one of my finds. The man’s genius, don’t you know, and is in music what I am myself painting.” “Barney, lay it on too thick,” said one of young
I know that by the look of you. CoMe in, come in.”

barneY trIumPhAntlY draGged the reluctaNT musIcian after him.

“I’ve got him,” He criEd, AT whiCH tHere wAs a clatTEr OF AppLaUsE anD
lAUgHter.

“NOw, tHere,” saiD Barney jubIlaNtLy, seating LanGLy Before the gRanD
piano, with itS grEat lid LiKe a DRagon’S wiNg proPped up, “THere’s aLl
the sheeT mUSic any REasonabLE MaN can Want; but if you prefeR AnYThing
else I’ll seNd out fOr IT; aND TheRe’s The piano--‘CoMe Let us HEar its
tUNe,’ AS THe pOEt says.”

The rugs Which usuallY CovEred thE wAxeD Floor hAd beeN cLEarEd away;
the chAirs Had been shOved inTO cornerS And agaiNst the WalL. ThEre wAS
mUcH laUgHTer ANd ManY ProTestatioNs ThAt theY had NOT COme pRepAred For
a dAnce, but all werE quIte nOTicEably Eager For tHe Fun to Begin.

“YOu see, YoU are in Bohemia,” crIed BArney, beamIng JoYouSlY on hiS
Many guEstS, “anD the delIght of BOHemIa IS UNcOnventionality. I danCeD
AFtEr the theAtre tiLL dAyLIght this MoRniNg, anD i Am as rEady AS eVer
to begIn agaiN. shAlL we not lUnCh becaUsE we HavE breaKFastEd, and
bEcause we Dine aT Seven? Not so. I am rEAdy for a dance aNY tIME oF The
nIghT or day. Now, Mr. musiCIan, sTrikE Up. ‘on wITh the Dance, LeT JoY
Be unconfined!’ as the poEt Says.”

LaNgly cOuld not have plAyed out of tIME Or tune if He trIEd. tHe piano,
as BarneY had tRuly said, waS A splendiD instRument, anD when the gAY
Waltz musIc fIllEd tHe lARGe Room, each couplE BEgan To Float liGhtLy
over tHe pOliSheD flOoR. The musicIan playeD oN aNd On, MecHanicALly yet
brIlLiaNtLy, aNd in tHE pauseS betwEen tHe DaNCes More thaN OnE OF the
GuEsTs spOke To Their Host OF thE music’s ExcellencE.

“Oh, YEs,” saId baRney, witH a jaunty wave oF tHe hand, “he’s oNe Of
mY finds. tHE man’s a geNius, don’t you know, and is in mUSic what i am
MyselF in pAinting.”

“BaRneY, you alWayS Lay it oN too thIck,” saId One OF The yoUNG
I know that by the look of  you. Come  in,com e i n. ”

B arne y triumphantly drag ged the reluctant musi cianaf t er h i m. 

“I’ ve goth im , ”  he  c ri ed,  a t  w hichthe re wasa clatterofap plause and
l a ug hter.

“No w,there,” said  Ba rney j ub ila n tly,sea tingLangly before  the gran dp iano,w ith its g re at l id like a dragon’ s  w i ng propped up,  “ther e’ s  a l l 
th e s heet music  a ny re a sonable ma n c anw ant; but if y ou prefer a n yth ing
el se  I’ l l send  outfo r  it ; and there ’s t he piano- -‘Come let ush ear its 
tune, ’ a s t he p o et  s ays .” 
Th e  r ugs whi ch usual ly  c overe d th e w a xedflo or h ad be en cleared aw ay; 
the cha irs h ad be en s ho ved i nto co rners  a nd against thewall . There w asmu chla ughte r  and m any  pr otestat ions th a t t he y h ad  not come prepared  f o r 
a  dance,but al l  w er e  quite n ot ice ably e agerfort he  fun tobegin. 
“ Yo u see,yo u arein  Bo hem ia,”c ried  Barne y, beami ng jo y ously on his
m a ny guests, “a n dt h ed elig htof Bohemiais u n conv enti o na lit y . I d anced 
a f te r  the theatre till d ay lightthismorning, andI am as re a d y  as ever 
tob eg i n again. Shall  we n ot lunch b e cause we  have  breakfa sted, and b ecause w e d ine  at  se v e n?  Not so. I am r eady  f or a da nce  any ti meofthe 
ni gh t or day.  Now, Mr .Mu si ci an,  stri k e up. ‘O nwit hthe  danc e , letjoy
b e un co nf i ned !’ as t h ep o et s ay s. ”

L ang ly  coul d no t  ha ve play ed out of  ti m e or  t un e if he  tried. The p ia no,
as Bar ne y h ad tru l y  said, w as a splendid instrumen t , and w hen  thegaywaltz mus icfilled  th e  large  room,  each  c oup l e  bega n to  fl oa t lightlyo v erthe p ol ishe d floor . The musician pla y edon and on, me cha nica l l yyet br i lli an t ly, a nd in the pause s betweenth e  d ances more tha none ofthe
gue sts s p oke totheir hos t of themu sic’ s exc ellence.
“Oh, yes ,” said B a rney, wi th ajau nty wa ve  of  thehand,“ he’ s one  of
my  f inds.The m an ’s a gen ius, don’t you know, an d is i n mus icwhat I am 
my s elf  in paint ing. ”

“Barney , y oualway s l a y iton t o othi c k,” s aido ne of the yo ung 
I know_that by_the look of you._Come in,_come_in.”

Barney triumphantly_dragged_the reluctant musician_after him.

“I’ve got_him,” he cried, at_which there was_a_clatter of applause and
laughter.

“Now, there,” said Barney jubilantly, seating Langly before the grand
piano, with_its_great lid_like_a_dragon’s wing propped up, “there’s_all
the sheet music any reasonable_man can_want; but if you prefer anything
else I’ll send_out_for it; and_there’s the piano--‘Come let us hear its
tune,’ as the_poet says.”

The rugs which usually covered_the waxed floor_had_been_cleared away;
the chairs had_been shoved into corners and against_the wall. There was
much laughter and_many protestations that they had not come_prepared for
a dance, but all were_quite noticeably eager for the_fun to_begin.

“You see, you are in_Bohemia,” cried Barney,_beaming joyously_on his
many guests,_“and the delight of Bohemia is_unconventionality. I danced
after_the theatre till daylight this morning,_and_I am as_ready_as_ever
to begin_again. Shall we_not_lunch because_we_have breakfasted, and
because we dine at_seven?_Not so. I am ready for a_dance any time of_the
night_or day. Now, Mr._Musician, strike up. ‘On with_the dance, let joy
be unconfined!’ as_the poet_says.”

Langly could_not have played out of time or tune if he tried._The piano,
as Barney had truly said,_was a splendid instrument,_and when_the_gay
waltz music filled_the_large room,_each couple began to float lightly
over the_polished floor._The musician played on and on,_mechanically yet
brilliantly, and in_the_pauses between the dances more than_one of the
guests spoke to their_host of the music’s excellence.

“Oh,_yes,”_said_Barney, with a jaunty wave_of the hand, “he’s one of
my_finds. The man’s_a genius, don’t you know, and is_in_music what I am
myself in painting.”

“Barney,_you_always lay it on too thick,”_said_one_of the young