<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</SPAN></span></p>
<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/i144.png" width-obs="200" height-obs="195" alt="W" title="W" /></div>
<p class="st">THE GERMAN BAND</p>
<p class="cap"><span class="upper">When</span> the German band was announced
by the Demon Usher in
his queer, cackling voice Queen
Titania, Dame Drusilda, Violet,
and Daffodil happened to be
seated on the steps of the throne,
and all were feeling grumpy
and out-of-sorts. Dragonfel had
tried to prevail upon them to
play dominoes or parchesi, but they had no heart for any
game.</p>
<p>Grouthead, Wolfinger, Mandrake, Boundingbore, Snoutpimple,
and others of the enchanter’s followers were present
and some of them looked distinctly bored. Snoutpimple was
even trying to repress a yawn. Things at the palace had been
rather slow since the abduction of Queen Titania and her party,
and nothing especially wicked had occurred.</p>
<p>When it was known, however, that a number of strolling<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</SPAN></span>
musicians were going to play for them, a thrill of genuine
pleasure ran through the whole assemblage. Titania and her
companions were glad, for they felt that some enlivening strains
would greatly cheer their drooping spirits. Dragonfel’s followers
were equally delighted, though they did not care in the
least for music. But knowing their master as they did they
were very sure that the prospective concert would prove exceedingly
interesting.</p>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/i145.png" width-obs="332" height-obs="276" alt="Conversation" title="" /></div>
<p>Escorted by
the smirking
Demon Usher,
who rubbed
his hands
together while
he cackled
joyously to
himself, and
who
half skipped,
half flew,
before them,
the members
of the German
band entered awkwardly, and clumsily arranged themselves
in a semi-circle before the throne.</p>
<p>There were five of them including the leader who stood at
the end nearest Dragonfel and the others—all diminutive,
moustached men with big noses, whose frayed, soiled uniforms
fitted them very badly indeed. Their trousers at the ends were
rolled up a number of times over, and their coats which hung<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</SPAN></span>
on them like bags actually reached almost to their shoe-tops.</p>
<p>Upon the chest of the one who stood next to the leader were
pinned a great variety of medals, and he seemed to be very
proud of them, since no one else boasted a decoration of any
kind.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i146.png" width-obs="390" height-obs="420" alt="The band" title="" /></div>
<p>The little audience grouped about the throne gazed at them
expectantly, and Titania thought the leader winked at her.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</SPAN></span>
But apparently he did not notice anyone, and least of all Dragonfel.
His whole attention seemed to be centred on his band.</p>
<p>“Are ve all here alretty?” he asked.</p>
<p>“Yah!” came in chorus.</p>
<p>“Vell,” said he, “I vill broceed der gall der roll-gall. ‘Louie
Knobloch!’”</p>
<p>“I vass here,” said the one with the medals next to him.</p>
<p>“Peter Dinkelspeil!”</p>
<p>“Here I vass.”</p>
<p>“Hermann Sweinskopf!”</p>
<p>“He’s peen here.”</p>
<p>“Jacob Schnittger!”</p>
<p>“Bresend early.”</p>
<p>“Emil Muller!”</p>
<p>There was no response, and all the rest turned and looked
at the leader in surprise.</p>
<p>“Emil Muller!” he repeated, and then, suddenly recollecting
something, went on: “Oh, oxguse me! I vass here.
Heinrich von Strauss! Heinrich von Strauss! Vere iss
Heiny von Strauss?”</p>
<p>“He vass py his bedt sick,” said Louie Knobloch.</p>
<p>“Vat’s der madder mit der bedt?” demanded Emil Muller.
“For vhy iss id sick?”</p>
<p>“Nein, nein, keppelmeister,” said Louie Knobloch. “Id iss
Heiny vat iss sick. He iss sick by der inside off der bedt.”</p>
<p>“Vhy iss he sick?” asked Emil Muller.</p>
<p>“Yestertay,” explained Louie Knobloch, “he vend on der
bicnig, und he eated four dozen charlotte roosters, und he gets
der collywopples.”</p>
<p>He illustrated his remarks by significantly rubbing his stomach.
“He vas not in goot contition to plow ven ve left.”<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i147.png" width-obs="431" height-obs="309" alt="All raised their instruments" title="" /></div>
<p>“Anyvone vot eadts charlotte roosters ought der be sick,”
said Emil Muller decidedly. “He shoult eat dem vhen dey iss
a egg. Blay!”</p>
<p>All raised their instruments to their mouths, but he held up
a warning finger.</p>
<p>“Anodder t’ing,” he went on to Knobloch. “You dell Heinrich
off he vass nod here dermorrow morning ad half basd
four in der afdernoon, vhen I gall der rehearsal, arous mit
him! Are you retty?”</p>
<p>“Yah!”</p>
<p>“Den plow yourselfs!”</p>
<p>Then began a wild riot of discord, whereupon Emil Muller
quickly took his own dented offending cornet from his mouth.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>“Ve vill nod blay dot biece,” he announced. “Id iss no goot.”</p>
<p>“Vhy don’d you wride some musigs, keppelmeister?” suggested
Peter Dinkelspeil.</p>
<p>“I voult, bud I’m doo pusy,” said Emil Muller. “Led us
renter insteadt dot peaudiful biece fon Vawgner, ‘Der Glock on
der Rhine.’”</p>
<p>“Vatch, keppelmeister,” corrected Louie Knobloch.</p>
<p>“Vatch vat?” inquired Emil Muller.</p>
<p>“Id iss nod a glock,” explained Louie Knobloch. “Id iss a
vatch on der Rhine.”</p>
<p>“A glock all gan see iss besser,” said Emil Muller, and in the
midst of their second attempt Hermann Swinescopf raised his
hand and shouted in the effort to make himself heard above
the din:</p>
<p>“Shtob der pandt! Shtob der pandt! I am shbeaking!”</p>
<p>“Vot’s der madder?” asked Emil Muller.</p>
<p>“Vass iss der biece you say ve blay?” questioned Hermann
Sweinskopf.</p>
<p>“I say ‘Der Glock on der Rhine’ fon Vawgner,” replied Emil
Muller.</p>
<p>They started once more, but again came the vigorous interruption
from Hermann Sweinskopf:</p>
<p>“Shtob der pandt! Shtob der pandt! I am shbeaking!”</p>
<p>“Vhy don’d you shbeak your moud oud undt pe done mit
it?” said Emil Muller angrily.</p>
<p>“Vass iss dis here biece, ‘Der Glock on der Rhine,’ anyhow?
Iss id a so-na-da?”</p>
<p>“Yess—undt no!” said Emil Muller, reflecting. “Id iss a
in-u-en-do! Are you all retty?”</p>
<p>“Yah!” they chorused, setting themselves in proper shape.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>“Vell, altogedder den, und show de vorld vot you can do!”</p>
<p>Then came a third attempt, but the leader again stopped
them.</p>
<p>“Who plew dot bum node?” he sternly demanded. Everyone
looked at each other in surprise, and Louie Knobloch said:</p>
<p>“Vell, I don’d dood id.”</p>
<p>“I didn’d did id,” said Peter Dinkelspeil.</p>
<p>“I didn’d done id,” said Hermann Sweinskopf.</p>
<p>“I didn’d did did id,” said Jacob Schnittger.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i148.png" width-obs="455" height-obs="377" alt="Who plew dot bum node" title="" /></div>
<p>“You’re de von,” Emil Muller accused Louie Knobloch.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</SPAN></span>
“You plew dot bum node, no madder vot oxguse you make!”</p>
<p>“No, sir,” said Louie Knobloch stoutly, “I don’d dood id.”</p>
<p>“You’re de von,” insisted Emil Muller. “You plew dot
bum node, it vass near me.”</p>
<p>“No, sir,” denied Louie Knobloch. “I don’d plow no bum
nodes. I vass as goot a musiker as you pe, und maype vorse.”</p>
<p>“You dake dot bum node und bay yourself,” said Emil Muller
reminded him.</p>
<p>“Oh, dot don’d make some ice!” said Louie Knobloch, accompanying
the words with sarcastic shakes of his head. “I don’d
see no medals on you.”</p>
<p>He looked complacently down at his own chest and regarded
with satisfaction the big assortment there. Emil Muller was
evidently taken aback, but he recovered himself sufficiently to
say:</p>
<p>“I am de leater, und you gan ged oudt off der pandt. Ve
gan ged along mitout you.”</p>
<p>“Oh, vell,” said Louie Knobloch, “I gan go.”</p>
<p>“Den vhy don’d you? Vat are you shtanding here for?”</p>
<p>“I vass vaiding for my money.”</p>
<p>“How much do you owe me?” asked Emil Muller.</p>
<p>“I owe you a veek’s vages,” said Louie Knobloch. “No, you
owe me a veek’s vages. You bay me my money und I go.”</p>
<p>“You dake dot bum node und bay yourself,” said Muller.</p>
<p>That settled the controversy, and Louis Knobloch made no
effort to go, nor did Emil Muller urge him.</p>
<p>They made another attempt, without any further interruption,
and, while their cheeks puffed out, and they got red in
their faces, no one could tell what tune they were playing.</p>
<p>Dragonfel from the throne silently motioned to Grouthead<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</SPAN></span>
who went out, and returned a few seconds later with a tray
on which were four tiny glasses of ginger ale.</p>
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<p>Jacob Schnittger turned and saw him, and then rushed to
help himself to one of the glasses of ginger ale. A moment
later Hermann Sweinskopf followed his example, and then
Peter Dinkelspeil. Louie Knobloch suddenly noticed his companions
preparing to refresh themselves, and made a frantic
dash to join them. That left only Emil Muller,
the leader, playing. He looked around to find out
what was
the matter,
and then
sprinted
toward
Grouthead,
but there
was no
ginger ale
left on the
tray. He
stood with
ill-concealed envy watching the other four who were clinking
their glasses hilariously. Then the quartet began to sing:</p>
<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0b">“‘Halli, hallo, halli, hallo;<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Bei uns geht’s immer,<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Je langer je schlimmer;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Halli, hallo, halli, hallo,<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Bei uns geht’s immer noch so!’”<br/></span></div>
</div></div>
<p>“Prosit, leater!” said Louie Knobloch mockingly, as he lifted<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</SPAN></span>
his glass, with the other three facing around and following suit.</p>
<p>Emil Muller was speechless. He kicked his heels together
as he watched them drinking and smacking their lips. Dragonfel
again signalled to Grouthead who went out, and came
back bearing an immense glass of ginger ale upon the tray.</p>
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<p>Emil Muller swooped
down upon it
exultingly, and
with great difficulty
held it
aloft. The others
of the band gathered
around in
awe, while
Louie Knobloch stood on tiptoe to obtain a better view of the
glass. Emil Muller blew the froth into Louie’s face, and the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</SPAN></span>
latter wiped it off with his fingers, afterwards putting them
in his mouth, as though even small favors sometimes count.</p>
<p>“Do you know vot dot man Vilhelm Shake-a-sbeare vonct
saidt?” he asked.</p>
</div>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/i151.png" width-obs="207" height-obs="284" alt="The brownies" title="" /></div>
<p>“No,” replied Louie Knobloch,
wiping the froth from
his eyes. “Vot dit he say?”</p>
<p>Emil Muller raised the glass
to his lips, remarking with
great emphasis:</p>
<p>“Shake-a-sbeare vonct saidt,
‘Dere iss odders!’”</p>
<p>But before he could partake
of the cooling drink all of a
sudden the Red Spirit with the
bow and quiver of arrows he
had taken surreptitiously from
Prince Florimel flew through
the window into the room,
shattering the glass all to
pieces, and lit right at Dragonfel’s feet.</p>
<p>“Be not deceived, kind master!” he cried, in great excitement.
“They are the Brownies!”</p>
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