Toward the last Teresa was obliged to go with him one or two evenings to help him with the straps and buckles, and to test the working powers of the great— But I must not go ahead of my story. It was still a secret to Andrea and Luisa, but they went to look at It the evening before Pietro decided to exhibit it on the street.
Now, children, guess what It was, if you are able.
THE PEREGRINATING ORCHESTRA AT WORK.
Look at the picture of Pietro, and you will find It on his back and his head, in his hands, and at his feet.
It is the peregrinating orchestra, that is, the travelling or wandering orchestra.
Do you wonder that the women have left their wash-tubs to gaze from the laundry windows, that the tenement-house is emptying its population to look at and listen to this wonderful man and his musical family?
Here you may count six different musical instruments or contrivances, connected with each other by an ingenious set of straps, so that the movement of one sets all the others going in proper time.
Just fancy Pietro is playing the "Star-spangled Banner." He touches D, B, G, the first notes of the air, on the accordion. Up fly the drumsticks; it's time they were busy. "Rub-a-dub," says the snare-drum; "boom, boom, boom," growls the bass-drum; "crash, crash," shriek the cymbals; "chink-a-chink, chink-a-chink," rattles the tambourine; "jingle, jingle," ring the bells from the little tower on his head; while the poor accordion puffs and wails laboriously.
Nor is this all; for Andrea is piping away steadily on his flageolet, Luisa is shaking her tambourine, and Pepita is flourishing her ivory rattle with the silver bells, as pleased with the whole affair as any member of the crowd.