Lying back in the shadows, only the whites of his eyes and the reflection of the light from the campfire on teeth and harmonica were visible to the Overlanders, giving merely a suggestion of a human countenance.
"A nature sketch in black and white," observed Anne Nesbit.

"I should think he would weary of blowing that thing so much.

He has been doing so all day long." "Blowing?
You are wrong," corrected Hippy.

"A harmonica is played with a grunt and a sigh.

I could make a brand new pun on that if I wanted to, but--" "Don't you dare," begged Miss Briggs.