Mowgli would like to start a jazz combo. He day dreams about it constantly. Apparently in very graphic 60's era designs.
Yesterday, he handed me a little tin whistle and insisted that I toot on it while he played a very nice B-flat on my trombone.
We've been promised a cornet. I am eagerly anticipating the salvation of my trombone.
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The cornet has been mailed. Thanks to your paternal parental unit.
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