"That's a good boy!"
"Nell," wailed Molly, "this trumpet for the milkman's little boy has gone wrong! It won't make a sound."
"Let me try," said Ted.
Denis reappeared with winks and nods. "Let's have a concert," he suggested. "Where's the milkman's drum?"
They mustered between them the trumpet (which wheezed a good deal, but did squeaks as well), the drum, and a mouth organ. Nell and Denis procured combs, put paper over them, and led the concert.
Ted sat through it bravely, even contributing squeaks and wheezes from the trumpet; but Denis gave a yell suddenly.
"I forgot he was real musical—a composer and all sorts of things!"
"Stow that!" Ted came at him, blaring the trumpet.
When he had gone Nell began at once:—
"Did you hang the stocking up, Denis?"