The little crowd of men and boys went fairly mad with hysterical joy of mirth, as an American crowd will when once overcome by the humor of the situation in the midst of their stress of life.

They now laughed at the little barber and the boy.

The old familiar butt had joined forces with the new ones.
"They have formed a trust," said Amidon, deserting his partisanship, now that it had assumed this phase of harmless jocularity.
But the boy at bay, as the laughter at his expense increased, was fairly frantic.

He lost what he had hitherto retained, his self-possession.

"I tell you I did!" he suddenly screamed out, in a sweet screech, like an angry bird, which commanded the ears of the crowd from its strangeness.