But I daresay I can play.
I regulated the key to begin with.
“Ting, ting! Chang, Chang, ting!”
“What to hum, Uncle?” I asked, facing aside.
“Love ditty is desirable,” Oji San considered.
“Don’t fancy me a geisha!” I said in defending laughter.
Then I murmured an old hauta, “Haori kakushite,” which was Englished by some one.
“She hid his coat,
She plucked his sleeve,
‘To-day you cannot go!