Did you hear that peculiar toot the fellow with the big horn gave when I finished up?
That means "Rotten" in his low vocabulary. He's got a grudge against me.
Once, when he didn't occupy his present high position, he came to me and wanted me to stake him the price of the horn he just insulted me with.
"What!" says I. "Are you going to learn to be a blower? Don't you think you are nuisance enough already?"
You see, I wanted to save the money. He stood firm though, and I had to cough up.
About a week later he came around looking a perfect wreck. His eye was closed, his head bandaged, and his clothes in shreds.
"What's the matter?" says I. "Couldn't you manage the horn."