I puffed and strained and worked until I feared an attack of apoplexy.

Then I gave it up and went down stairs; and Mrs.A.asked me what made me look so red in the face.

For four days I labored with that horn, and got my lips so puckered up and swollen that I went about looking as if I was perpetually trying to whistle.

Finally, I took the instrument back to the store and told the man that the horn was defective.

What I wanted was a horn with insides to it; this one had no more music to it than a terra-cotta drainpipe.
The man took it in his hand, put it to his lips and played "Sweet Spirit, Hear my Prayer," as easily as if he were singing.