“Wait and see,” teased Jane.
“Now, Jane, be good and tell us about this combietta affair?” coaxed Hazel. “What is it?”
“An instrumental concert,” giggled Jane. “I got the musical instruments when I was in town doing some shopping. Oh, don’t worry, darlin’s. You all know to play them. The first thing to do is to decide upon the tune. How about the ‘Marching Through Georgia’ for a starter?”
Jane spread out six squares of thin white paper. She then produced the same number of small packages.
“Oh, we’ll wake the squirrels and the chipmunks and the weasles,” promised Jane, with a grin of anticipation.
Tommy picked at the wrapping on the end of one of the small packages and uttered an exclamation of disappointment.
“It ithn’t a musical inthrument at all,” she declared indignantly. “It ith nothing but a common old black comb.”
“That’s just where you’re wrong,” answered Jane. “These combs are new. I bought them in the village store this very day. Listen, dears. This is the combietta. It makes music through its teeth, and plays any tune you call for.”
“Wonderful,” laughed Miss Elting. “There is something very familiar about this marvelous musical instrument. Combietta, do you call it, Jane?”
“Sure I do. But the name is my own invention. The music is as old as the combs themselves and I don’t know how old they are.”