The Country of the Blind

Bru-a-a-a.

I listened, not understanding.

Wa-ra-ra-ra.

“Good Lord!” said I, still only half awake.  “What an infernal shindy!”

Ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra Ta-ra-rra-ra.

“It’s enough,” said I, “to wake——­” and stopped short.  Where was I?

Ta-rra-rara—­louder and louder.

“It’s either some new invention——­”

Toora-toora-toora!  Deafening!

“No,” said I, speaking loud in order to hear myself.  “That’s the Last Trump.”

Tooo-rraa!