"Ah, as I thought; it's 'La Donna e Mobile.' This, bein' translated, means that any lady can change her mind occasionally, whether she comes from Mobile or not." "That's no dream," said Curly.

"Onct on the Brazos--" "Never mind, Curly.

Just feed that 'Donna' into the machine, Tom, and let's hear how it sounds once more." And so Tom Osby, proud in his new possession, played for his audience, there in the adobe by the _arroyo_; played all his records, or nearly all; played them over and over again.

It was nearly night when we left the place.
"Excuse me," said Dan Anderson to me, with a motion as though adjusting a cravat upon my neck, "but your white tie is slipping around under your ear again." And as we walked, I was sure that I saw an opera hat under his arm, though sober reason convinced me that we both were wearing overalls, and not evening clothes.
"But did you notice," said Curly, after a while, "Tom, he's holdin' out on us.

That there music, it's all tangled up in my hair." He removed his hat and ran a questioning hand through the matted tangle on his curly front.