"It wouldn't bother you just to have me know about it, would it?" Sube persisted.
"That's right! Stick to it!" growled his father. "I suppose I may as well tell you. It's like a brass kettle with a drumhead over the top. Now run along and don't bother me any more."
"But how do you play it?"
"What a question! Why, with sticks, of course!"
But Sube was not to be put off. "How many? One? Or two?" he asked as he edged towards the door.
"Two, of course!" responded his father.
"Like a snare drum?" Sube called back as he tarried in the doorway.
Seeing that he was about to be relieved of his son's presence Mr. Cane amplified a little. "More like two small bass drumsticks," he explained. "Now run along and don't bother me again to-day, for I am very busy."
Sube followed his mother into the kitchen. "How'm I goin' to get a bass drum?" he teased. "Mompsie, how'm I goin' to get—"
"Whatever put this drum business into your head?" she asked. "You know any kind of noise affects your father!"