Don't you think so?"
"Don't know," said Button-Bright. Toto said, "Bow-wow!" and the
others laughed.
"Perhaps that's why he lives all alone," suggested Dorothy.
"Yes; if he had neighbors, they might do him an injury," responded
the shaggy man.
All this while the little fat musicker was breathing the notes:
Tiddle-tiddle-iddle, oom, pom-pom,
and they had to speak loud in order to hear themselves.
The shaggy man said:
"Who are you, sir?"
The reply came in the shape of this sing-song:
I'm Allegro da Capo, a very famous man;
Just find another, high or low, to match me if you can.
Some people try, but can't, to play
And have to practice every day;
But I've been musical always, since first my life began.
"Why, I b'lieve he's proud of it," exclaimed Dorothy; "and seems to me
I've heard worse music than he makes."
"Where?" asked Button-Bright.
"I've forgotten, just now. But Mr. Da Capo is certainly a strange
person--isn't he?--and p'r'aps he's the only one of his kind in all
the world."
This praise seemed to please the little fat musicker, for he swelled
out his chest, looked important and sang as follows:
I wear no band around me,
And yet I am a band!
I do not strain to make my strains
But, on the other hand,
My toot is always destitute
Of flats or other errors;
To see sharp and be natural are
For me but minor terrors.
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