I stood it a little while.

Then I said: "Now, here, Roderigo Gonzales Michael Angelo, I'm a pilgrim, and I'm a stranger, but I am not going to have my feelings lacerated by any such caterwauling as that.

If that goes on, one of us has got to take water.
It is enough that my cherished dreams of Venice have been blighted forever as to the romantic gondola and the gorgeous gondolier; this system of destruction shall go no farther; I will accept the hearse, under protest, and you may fly your flag of truce in peace, but here I register a dark and bloody oath that you shan't sing.

Another yelp, and overboard you go." I began to feel that the old Venice of song and story had departed forever.

But I was too hasty.