“Troubles, old man,” said Aladdin, for so he was in the habit of addressing himself at moments of self-communication, “this is going to be the slowest kind of a trip, but we’re going to enjoy every minute of it, because it’s taking us to the place where we would be-God bless her!”

Aladdin took a cigar from his breast pocket.

“Troubles,” said he, “may I offer you a smoke?  What?  Oh, you’re very much obliged and don’t mind if you do.  There you are, then.”  Aladdin sent out a great puff of white smoke; this turned into a blue wraith, drifted down the aisle, between the seats, gathering momentum as it went, and finally, with the rapidity of a mint julep mounting a sucked straw (that isn’t split) and spun long and fine, it was drawn through a puncture of the isinglass in the stove door and went up the chimney in company with other smoke, and out into the storm.  Aladdin, full of anticipation and glee, smoked away with great spirit.  Presently, for the car was empty but for himself, Aladdin launched into the rollicking air of “Red Renard”

   “Three scarlet huntsmen rode up to White Plains
    With a carol of voices and jangle of chains,
    For the morning was blue and the morning was fair,
    And the word ran, “Red Renard” is waiting us there.”

He puffed at his cigar a moment to be sure that its fire should not flag, and sang on: 

   “The first scarlet huntsman blew into his horn,
    Lirala, Lovely Morning, I’m glad I was born”;
    The second red huntsman he whistled an air,
    And the third sang, “Red Renard” is waiting us there.”

“Just such weather as this, Troubles,” he said, looking out into the swirl of snow.  “Just the beautifulest kind of cross-country weather!” He sang on: 

    Three lovely ladies they met at the meet,
    With whips in their hands and with boots on their feet;
    And the gentlemen lifted their hats with a cheer,
    As the girls said, “Red Renard is waiting you here.”

He quickened into the stanza he liked best: 

    Three scarlet huntsmen rode off by the side
    Of three lovely ladies on horses of pride. 
    Said the first, “Call me Ellen”; the second, “I’m Claire”;
    Said the third, “I’m Red Renard—­so called from my hair.”

The train, which had been running more slowly, drew up with a chug, and some minutes passed before it again gathered itself and lurched on.

“That’s all right,” said Aladdin.  He was quite warm now, and thoroughly happy.

    Three scarlet huntsmen rode home from White Plains,
    With its mud on their boots, and its girls on their brains;
    And the first sang of Ellen, the second of Claire,
    But the third sang, “Red Renard is waiting back there.”

He made a waggish face to finish with: 

    Three scarlet huntsmen got into frock-coats,
    And they pinched their poor feet, and they tortured their throats;
    And the first married Ellen, the second wed Claire,
    While the third said, “Re Renar izh waishing back zhere.”