He kept his eyes upon the big horn, and, now and then,
he gave an imitation of it. His fingers moved upon invisible
keys, his cheeks puffed out, and, from far down in his throat, he
produced strange sounds: "Taw, p'taw-p'taw! Taw, p'taw-p'taw!
PAW!"
The other boys turned back when the musicians ceased to play, but
Penrod marched on, still keeping close to what so inspired him.
He stayed with the band till the last member of it disappeared up
a staircase in an office-building, down at the business end of
the street; and even after that he lingered a while, looking at
the staircase.
Finally, however, he set his face toward home, whither he marched
in a procession, the visible part of which consisted of himself
alone. All the way the rhythmic movements of his head kept time
with his marching feet and, also, with a slight rise and fall of
his fingers at about the median line of his abdomen. And
pedestrians who encountered him in this preoccupation were not
surprised to hear, as he passed, a few explosive little
vocalizations: "Taw, p'taw-p'taw! TAW! Taw-aw-HAW!"
These were the outward symptoms of no fleeting impulse, but of
steadfast desire; therefore they were persistent.
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