Tell me." He brandished the horn
which he held in his right hand. "Don't you think this sounds the best?"
With an effort he produced a most distressing sound. "Or this?" Putting
the other to his lips, he emitted a precisely similar note.
"There's no difference at all," said I, crossing to a bureau. "They're
equally painful. They do it rather better at level-crossings on the
Continent."
"It is patent," said Bertram, "that you have no ear for music."
"All right," said I, making ready to write. "You try it. The hounds'll
all sit up and beg or something. I suppose it's too much to expect to
find a pen that'll write here," I added, regarding uneasily the enormous
quill with which the bureau was decorated.
"That's a jolly good pen," said Bertram indignantly. "Every one says
so."
I grunted my disbelief.
"Which end shall I use?"
"I recommend the right one," rejoined my host with ponderous sarcasm.
"But, as I have yet to meet any one who can read your writing, I don't
suppose it matters."
"I have often deplored the company you keep," said I, and with that I
selected a large sheet of paper and wrote as follows--
_DEAR MISS CHILDE,_
_I'd like to have Nobby very much. I'm awfully sorry for you, but I'll
be very kind to him for both your sakes.
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