Mr. Hearty gazed at Bindle with unseeing eyes.
"These bands yours, too, 'Earty?" Bindle enquired.
Mr. Hearty shook his head in hopeless negation. Nothing was his, not even the power to move and rout this scandalous, zoological-botanical exhibition.
"Well, wot are they a-playin' 'ymns for?" demanded Bindle.
"Hymns?" enquired Mr. Hearty in a toneless voice.
"Yes, can't you 'ear 'em?" Bindle gazed at his brother-in-law curiously. "Enough to blow your 'ead orf."
The first band was now blaring out its "Pull for the Shore, Sailor," with full force. At its head walked a man carrying a representation of a cabbage, on which was painted:
Hearty For Cabbages
The bandsmen wore strangely nondescript clothes. With one exception they all seemed to possess the uniform cap, that exception was a man in khaki. Four of them had caps without tunics. Only one had the full regulation uniform; but he was wearing odd boots. The bandmaster, in a braided frock-coat, which reached well below his knees, was spasmodically putting in bits on a cornet; he was short of stature with a constricted wind, and the pace was fast.
The second band approached, the man at its head bearing a carrot with a similar legend as that of the rival concern; but in relation to carrots. "Onward, Christian Soldiers" was its melody. The noise became diabolical. The second band had uniform caps only, and two of its members had taken off their coats and hung them over their shoulders. It was a hot and tiring day.