[11]
—'Tis as soft as a flute, said she.
—'Tis brass, said the trumpeter.
—'Tis a pudding's end—said his wife.
I tell thee again, said the trumpeter, 'tis a brazen nose.
I'll know the bottom of it, said the trumpeter's wife, for I will touch it with my finger before I sleep.
The stranger's mule moved on at so slow a rate, that he heard every word of the dispute, not only betwixt the centinel and the drummer; but betwixt the trumpeter and the trumpeter's wife.
No! said he, dropping his reins upon his mule's neck, and laying both hishands
