shall be wine;
And there shall follow after
A kiss that shall be mine.

Somehow all the homing hearts were set to beating.

Roses with dewfall laden
One garden grows for me;
I call them kisses, maiden,
And gather them from thee.

The very sick man turned fully, and there was a glad light of
recognition in his eyes.

Give me three kisses only--
Then let the storm break o'er
The vessel beached and lonely
Upon the lonely shore.

If Aladdin's singing ever moved anybody particularly, it was Aladdin,
and that was why it moved other people. He sang on with tears in his
voice

Give me three breaths of pleasure
After three deaths of pain,
And I will no more treasure
The hopes that are in vain.

There was silence for a moment, more engaging than applause, and then
applause. Aladdin was in his element, and he wondered what he would
best sing next if they should ask him to sing again, and this they
immediately did. The train was jolting along between Baltimore and
Philadelphia. There was much beer in the bellies of the sick and
wounded, and much sentiment in their hearts. Aladdin's finger was always
on the pulse of his audience, and he began with relish:

Oh, shut and dark her window is
In the dark house on the hill,
But I have come up through the lilac walk
To the lilt of the whippoorwill,
With the old years tugging at my hands
And my heart which is her heart still.

There was another man in the car whose whole life centered about a house
on a hill with a lilac walk leading up to it. He was the very sick man,
and a shadow of red color came into his cheeks.

They said, "You must come to the house once more,
Ere the tale of your years be done,
You must stand and look up at her window again,
Ere the sands of your life are run,
As the night-time follows the lost daytime,
And the heart goes down with the sun."

There were tears in the very sick man's eyes, for the future was hidden
from him. Aladdin sang on:

Though her window be darkest of every one,
In the dark house on the hill,
Yet I turn to it here from this ruin of grass,
She has leaned on that window's sill,
And dark it is, but there is, there is
An echo of light there still!

There was great applause from the drunk and sentimental. And A