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Again the professor of mathematics and architectural drawing put the key-bugle to his lips and sent the blast echoing over the white waste: Ta-ra! ta-ra! ta-ra-ra-ra! ta-rat! The road from Lakeview Hall was winding, and only a short stretch of it could be seen from the brow of Pendragon Hill. But the roof and chimneys of the great castle-like Hall were visible above the tree-tops.
An incredible, a shameful number!" "As time goes on, Admiral, they grow less patient. Hope deferred " Ta-ra, tara-ra! Ta-ra, tara-ra-ra! The notes of the guard's horn broke in upon Dorothea's excuse. Groups scattered, market carts were hastily backed alongside the pavement, and down the mid-thoroughfare came the mail at a gallop, with crack of whip and rushing chime of bits and swingle-bars.
Then he blew the warning blast to tell all below on the hillside that the Sky-rocket was coming. Ta-ra! ta-ra! ta-ra-ra-ra! Ta-rat! With a rush the sled was off. It disappeared around the evergreen clump. The hum of its runners was dying away when suddenly there sounded a chorus of screams, evidently from the Sky-rocket crew.
"Ta-ra, ta-ra, ta-ra-a-a-a," wound the coach horn; and up the carriage drive rattled a superb vehicle, drawn by four superb gray horses. The long summer daylight yet lingered, and showed the faces of the party atop of the coach. "It's the Pelham team, and that's young Berk Pelham holding the reins," said a bystander.
I think it was the Prince that conquered. 'And, sir, you would be right, replied Killian seriously. 'In the eyes of God, I do not question but you would be right; but men, sir, look at these things differently, and they laugh. 'They made a song of it, observed Fritz. 'How does it go? Ta-tum- ta-ra . . .
But what was that sound, that long-drawn, jubilant sound that suddenly rang over and above the dance music? "Ta-ra, ta-ra, ta-ra-a-a-a," rang the clear, piercing notes; and out from halls and offices and parlors came a little flock of folk to see that most interesting of arrivals at a summer resort, a coaching-party.
Zese citoyens goin' to wickwest Jean Poquelin to give to the Ursuline' two hondred fifty dolla'" "Hé quoi!" cried a listener, "Cinq cent piastres, oui!" "Oui!" said Bienvenu, "and if he wiffuse we make him some lit' musique; ta-ra ta!" He hoisted a merry hand and foot, then frowning, added: "Old Poquelin got no bizniz dhink s'much w'isky."
March you at our head, and you will see how we like it. His words gave us new heart; his promises seemed already to clothe us. We were ragged and tired; but it seemed, after that speech, as if we walked on air, and were dressed in silken robes. Forward, march! Boom boom boom! Ta-ra, ta-ra-ra! Hear the drums! See us marching! We marched through the day; we marched through the night.
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