Toot! Toot! Tootity-toot-toot! echoed the merry notes.
"What a pretty sound," said the Jumping Jack, as he jerked his arms and
legs up and down, for he had just awakened from his long day of sleep.
"Isn't it nice," agreed Tumbling Tom, a queer toy who never could stand
up, because he was made in such a funny way that he always fell down. "I
wonder if there is going to be a parade?"
"Who is blowing that horn, anyway?" asked the Talking Doll.
"I tell you it isn't a horn--it's a trumpet, and I am blowing it," said
a voice in the front part of the toy store. "I came in only to-day, but
I thought perhaps you other toys would like a little music, so I tuned
up my trumpet. But please don't call it a horn. I am not a fish man!"
With that there came walking along the shelf, from the front part of the
store, a little man wearing a blue coat, dark red trousers, and a hat
with a long, sweeping plume. I say he was a little man, but I mean he
was a toy, dressed up like a man such as you see in fairy stories. In
his hand he carried a little golden trumpet.
As he walked along the shelf, where the other toys stood, the Trumpeter,
for such he was, blew another blast on his golden instrument.
And the blast was such a jolly one that every toy in the store felt like
dancing or singing. The Jumping Jack worked his arms and legs faster
than they had ever jerked about before.
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