could not perform on any musical instrument with his gout-stiffened fingers. But the Lieutenant now went over to him with the triangle, which he could manage with ease. So the Colour-Sergeant, too, was happy.
Major Ehrencrona sat blowing smoke through his big white moustache. He saw how one after another had been provided with an instrument, but feigned indifference.
"Just give me a couple of pot-lids," he said to the Lieutenant, "so that I may at least join in the noisemaking. I know, of course, that the instrument I play is not to be found in this house."
Like a streak, the Lieutenant darted into the parlour and came back with a brilliantly polished French horn, with green silk cord and tassel, he had managed to procure for the Major.
"What do you say to this. Uncle?" he asked him.
The old major beamed.
"Hal you're a real fellow. Brother Eric Gustaf!" He put down his pipe and began to toot vociferously, sending out a volley of ear-splitting blasts.
Now that the guests were all furnished with instruments, they remarked that the host himself had none. Whereupon, the Lieutenant produced a little wooden whistle, one end of which must be placed in a glass of water when one blew upon it. By so doing one could make trills as sweet as any nightingale's.
And last, they begged Fru Lagerlöf to accompany them on the piano.
