"They all know what I mean!" said Kit rather testily.
"Don't plague him," interposed Hal. "About the music, Kit?"
"Oh! I can't half tell you;" and Kit gave a long sigh. "There were drums and fifes, and those clappers—I don't remember what you called 'em, but I liked it best when the men were horning with their horns"—
Joe gave a loud outburst, and went over on his head.
"Well," said Kit much aggrieved, "what are you laughing about?"
"Horning! That is good! You had better write a new dictionary, Kit. It is a decided improvement upon 'toot,' and must commend itself to Flossy's attention for superior elegance. There, my dear, give me a vote of thanks;" and Joe twitched Flossy's long curls.
"I don't know what you call it, then," said Kit rather sulkily.
"They blew on the horns," Hal rejoined in his soothing tone, that was always a comfort in times of disturbance; "and the cornets, wind-instruments, I believe, though I don't know the names of them all. It must have been delightful."
"Oh, it was! I shut my eyes, and it seemed as if I was floating on a sea, and there were all the waves beating up and down, and then a long soft sound like the wind blowing in and shaking it all to echoes. I was so sorry when they stopped. They all went into the hotel, I guess it was. By and by I wandered off a little ways, and sat on a stoop; and some one was playing on a piano. That was beautiful too. I'd like to crawl inside of something, as the fairies do, and just live there and listen forever."