A VIGOROUS BREAKDOWN.
NO STRINGS NO CHORDS.
HARPEGGIO.
Blunderbore at once stiffened up, in a manner that formed a marked contrast to his previous easy affability, squared at the whole company, and displayed any amount of brass. It soon appeared, however, that, just like a great many other people when asked to give a little music, he was making a fuss about the preliminaries, for presently, when he had looked stuck-up for a minute or two, he executed a most elegant breakdown, ending in a thoroughly organic change and brilliant musical parts, which latter the ladies caught neatly as they fell, and there, in a moment, stood a full orchestra, with a monster organ in the middle, as Blunderbore’s gold-striped coat and waistcoat became gilded pipes, his curly locks fell in a shower of cornets and French horns, his stock made a full-sized drum, his cuffs a couple of brass drums, his cheeks a pair of cymbals, the bones of his nose naturally became a group of trombones; the fingers and nails scattering in a shower of violins, flutes, piccolos, clarionets, and oboes, and the thumbs in violas and bassoons; his arms making a splendid set of sax-horns, euphonions, and ophicleides; the legs forming two enormous double basses, and his feet dividing into two pairs of violoncellos; while the pin at his breast dropped down as a neat jewel-mounted conducting-baton, the cane bent itself into a magnificent harp; and, to crown all, his hat settled on the top of the organ, forming an elegant carved screen over it. Tap, tap, went the baton in the lovely hand of the conductress, as the gentlemen formed themselves into animated music-desks, which, in the case of the ladies who held the different classes of violins, reversed the usual saying, by giving them two bows to their strings. Wave, wave, wave, swept the baton—one, two, three, and off they went in a grand overture, the fair performers playing their parts (of Blunderbore) to perfection. The lady with the harp was the only disconcerted one, for, unfortunately, Blunderbore had lost the cords and tassels of his walking-cane, so when formed into a harp the instrument was stringless, and the lady holding it, who had a solo to play, was in despair. Ranulf, seeing her distress, mounted the orchestra, saying, as he looked and fumbled among the confused mass that forms the proper contents of a boy’s pocket, “Here is something that will perhaps do.” The lady, seeing the coils over his shoulder, misunderstood him; and there being no time to lose, she, in the very act of saying, “Thank you, dear,” slipped his nose off his shoulder, and before he had time to know what was to happen, strung it on the harp, up and down, up and down, just as the conductress turned towards her to indicate the time for her solo. Her nimble feminine fingers were so gentle that Ranulf was not at all put out, and there was little time to think, for the beautiful arms were stretched out, the taper-fingers gave a rapid wave, and the harp poured out its richest notes, so that all stood listening entranced, as the graceful fingers made it speak, now in round rolling roughness, like the storm; now in rich fulness of music; and now in gentle brilliant trills, like the birds in a distant wood. Ranulf himself, who had a good ear, drank in the sweet sounds with eager delight, wondering as nothing since he left home had made him wonder. But, in an evil moment, forgetting his good manners, which forbid speaking when a solo is going on, he exclaimed—
“Oh, how awfully jolly!”
THROUGH THE NOSE.
Terrible was the result. Everybody knows how horrid the sound is when a person speaks holding his nose; but then he only grasps it at one place. Now Ranulf’s, of course, was held at about a hundred places on the harp, and so it sounded 100 times over the fearful twang, making everybody put hands to ears; and the lady harpist, whose sweetest notes had been made so false as to turn her harp into a lyre, was so struck that she looked despair as black as blue eyes could.