A man was playing that most lugubrious of street instruments, a cheap tin whistle. 'The ratepayer in the flat overhead could stand the melody no longer, and descended to expostulate. “Man.” ho said to the musician, in a very vexed voice, “ I can stand that ear-splitting noise no longer; [am tired of it.” “Nae dnot, nae doot,” replied the whistler, bringing the ‘Death of Nelson ’ to a rapid end. “ But what ahoot me, sir? I’ve stood it noo for live ’oors on end.” Ho got his sixpence.
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Bibliographic details
Evening Star, Issue 19198, 15 March 1926, Page 11
Word Count
87Untitled Evening Star, Issue 19198, 15 March 1926, Page 11
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