Was the song too deep for them, or perhaps he did not sing the words distinctly, or perhaps they _had_ laughed and he had not noticed?
At any rate he would try the next verse, which was certain to amuse them.

He looked as droll as he could, and by way of heightening the effect, stuck his two thumbs into the armholes of his waistcoat and wagged his hands in time with the song.
Do you think I lie abed all day?
Oh no! Do you guess I skate on ice in May?
Oh no! Do you think I can't tell what is what?
Do you think I don't know pepper's hot?
Or whereabouts my i's to dot?
Oh no, no rot! As he concluded, Fisher minor summoned up enough resolution to shake his head and lay one finger to his nose in the most approved style of comedy, and then awaited the result.
Fellows apparently did not take in that the song was at an end, for they neither cheered nor smiled.

So Fisher minor made an elaborate bow to show it was all over.

The result was the same.

A gloomy silence prevailed, in the midst of which the singer, never more perplexed in his life, descended from the table and proceeded to look out for the congratulations of his admirers.
"Beautiful song," said Wally, still mopping his face.
"I never thought I could be so touched by anything.