Hello, it's been left open--it's too bad--still I reckon it hasn't had much chance to collect irrelevant stuff.

All you do is to press this button in the floor--so." The phonograph began to sing in a plaintive voice: There is a boarding-house, far far away, Where they have ham and eggs, 3 times a day.
"Hang it, that ain't it.

Somebody's been singing around here." The plaintive song began again, mingled with a low, gradually rising wail of cats slowly warming up toward a fight; O, how the boarders yell, When they hear that dinner bell They give that landlord-- (momentary outburst of terrific catfight which drowns out one word.) Three times a day.
(Renewal of furious catfight for a moment.

The plaintive voice on a high fierce key, "Scat, you devils"-- and a racket as of flying missiles.) "Well, never mind--let it go.

I've got some sailor-profanity down in there somewhere, if I could get to it.