The Trumpet of the Swan by E. B. White

The Trumpet of the Swan by E. B. White

Author:E. B. White
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2015-02-03T05:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 13

END OF SUMMER

A trumpet has three little valves. They are for the fingers of the player. They look like this:

By pushing them down in the right order, the player can produce all the notes of the musical scale. Louis had often examined these three little valves on his horn, but he had never been able to use them. He had three front toes on each foot, but, being a water bird, he had webbed feet. The webbing prevented him from using his three toes independently. Luckily, the valves on a trumpet are not needed for bugle calls because bugle calls are just combinations of do, mi, and sol, and a trumpeter can play do, mi, and sol without pressing down any of the valves.

“If I could just work those three valves with my three toes,” he said to himself, “I could play all sorts of music, not just bugle calls. I could play jazz. I could play country-and-western. I could play rock. I could play the great music of Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, Sibelius, Gershwin, Irving Berlin, Brahms, everybody. I could really be a trumpet player, not just a camp bugler. I might even get a job with an orchestra.” The thought filled him with ambition. Louis loved music, and besides, he was already casting about for ways of making money after camp was over.

Although he enjoyed life at Camp Kookooskoos, Louis often thought of his home on Upper Red Rock Lake in Montana. He thought about his parents, his brothers and sisters, and about Serena. He was terribly in love with Serena, and he often wondered what was happening to her. At night, he would look up at the stars and think about her. In the late evening, when the big bullfrogs were calling trooonk across the still lake, he would think of Serena. Sometimes he felt sad, lonely, and homesick. His music, however, was a comfort to him. He loved the sound of his own trumpet.

Summer passed all too quickly. On the last day of camp, Mr. Brickle called his counselors together and paid them what he owed them. Louis received one hundred dollars—the first money he had ever earned. He had no wallet and no pockets, so Mr. Brickle placed the money in a waterproof bag that had a drawstring. He hung this moneybag around Louis’s neck, along with the trumpet, the slate, the chalk pencil, and the lifesaving medal.

Louis went to Sam Beaver’s tent and found Sam packing his things. Louis took off his slate and pencil.

“I need another job,” he wrote. “Where should I go?”

Sam sat down on his bed and thought for a while. Then he said, “Go to Boston. Maybe you can get a job with the Swan Boat.”

Louis had never been to Boston, and he had no idea what the Swan Boat was, but he nodded his head. Then on his slate he wrote: “Do me a favor?”

“Sure,” said Sam.

“Take a razor blade and slit the web on my right foot, so I can wiggle my toes.



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