Does he give them a Bach fugue, or Guillmant's "Grand Choeur?"
'Deed, he doesn't. He goes right to the heart, with "Patrick's Day
in the Morning," and "The Carnival of Venice," and "Home, Sweet Home,"
and "Oh, Where, Oh Where has my Little Dog Gone?" He knows his
business. A shade off the key, perhaps, but my! Ain't it grand? So
loud and nice!
"Well, that's all of it . . . . Why, child, I can't make it any
longer than it is.
What do you want me to drive round into the other street for? You've
seen all there is to see. Got all your trading done, mother? Well,
then I expect we'd better put for home. Now, Eddy, I told you 'No'
once, and that's the end of it. Hush up now! Look here, sir! Do
you want me to take and 'tend to you right before everybody? Well,
I will now, if I hear another whimper out o' ye. Ck-ck-ck! Git ep
there, Nelly."
Some day, when we get big, and have whole, whole lots of money we're
going to the circus every time it comes to town, to the real circus,
the one you have to pay to get into. For if merely the street
parade is so magnificent, what must the show itself be?
How people can sit at the table on circus day and stuff, and stuff
the way they do is more than I can understand. You'd think they
hadn't any more chances to eat than they had to go to the show.
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