8. The Musicker

           

           Aboutthemiddleoftheforenoontheybegantogoupalonghill.By-and-bythishillsuddenlydroppeddownintoaprettyvalley,wherethetravelerssaw,totheirsurprise,asmallhousestandingbytheroad-side.

           Itwasthefirsthousetheyhadseen,andtheyhastenedintothevalleytodiscoverwholivedthere.Noonewasinsightastheyapproached,butwhentheybegantogetnearerthehousetheyheardqueersoundscomingfromit.Theycouldnotmaketheseoutatfirst,butastheybecamelouderourfriendsthoughttheyheardasortofmusiclikethatmadebyawheezyhand-organ;themusicfellupontheirearsinthisway:

           Tiddle-widdle-iddleoompom-pom!

           Oom,pom-pom!oom,pom-pom!

           Tiddle-tiddle-tiddleoompom-pom!

           Oom,pom-pom—pah!

           "Whatisit,abandoramouth-organ?"askedDorothy.

           "Don’tknow,"saidButton-Bright.

           "Soundstomelikeaplayed-outphonograph,"saidtheshaggyman,liftinghisenormousearstolisten.

           "Oh,therejustCOULDN’TbeafunnygrafinFairyland!"criedDorothy.

           "It’sratherpretty,isn’tit?"askedPolychrome,tryingtodancetothestrains.

           Tiddle-widdle-iddle,oompom-pom,

           Oompom-pom;oompom-pom!

           camethemusictotheirears,moredistinctlyastheydrewnearerthehouse.Presently,theysawalittlefatmansittingonabenchbeforethedoor.Heworeared,braidedjacketthatreachedtohiswaist,abluewaistcoat,andwhitetrouserswithgoldstripesdownthesides.Onhisbaldheadwasperchedalittle,round,redcapheldinplacebyarubberelasticunderneathhischin.Hisfacewasround,hiseyesafadedblue,andheworewhitecottongloves.

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