When the Burnish Brothers took a bow and backed off we were all invited to listen to a soprano solo by Miss Imogene Lukewarm.
Somebody went around and locked the doors, so I made up my mind to die game.
A foolish friend once told Imogene she could sing, so she went out and bought up a bunch of tra-la-la's and began to beat them around the parlor.
When Imogene sings she makes faces at herself.
If she needs a high note she goes after like she was calling the dachshund in to dinner.
Imogene sang "Sleep, Sweetly Sleep," and then kept us awake with her voice.
After Imogene crept back to her cave we had the first treat of the evening, and the shock was so sudden it jarred us.
Uncle Mil came out and quivered a violin obligato entitled "The Lost Sheep in the Mountain," and it was all there is.
Uncle Mil was the only green spot in the desert.
When he gathered the gourd up under his chin and allowed the bow to tiptoe over the bridge you could hear the nightingale calling to its mate.