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Now the band came up, a troop of boys in gorgeous uniforms made of red calico and tinsel paper. A drum and fife kept tolerable time; but the wheezy harmonicas and paper-covered combs, the tin horns and clanging triangles, quite “covered” any tune the fife attempted. Yet what matter? It was a joyful noise; and even the horses kept step to the valiant drum. “Shade of Beelzebub! Where did you spring from?” shouted the astonished man. “Do you know that piece of music called ‘The Rose of Larst Summer’?” inquired the musical connoisseur..

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“A perfectly gorgeous occasion,” Bess supplemented. “Good dog! I understand you, Bouncer, and I’m not lonesome any more.” “Every tub must stan’ on its own bottom,” commented Mrs. Wopp. But even as she spoke, an unmistakable expression of gratified pride spread over her large motherly countenance. Turning to the right he entered a short dark corridor and noticed at the end of the passageway a brass knob gleaming. With renewed hope he approached the shining mark and extended his hand to open the door..