"There are lots of people in the world that know less than
Bello," Seppi answered wisely. He put the horn to his lips,
puffed out his cheeks, and blew with all his might. It made a
fearful noise, which was echoed from all the surrounding cliffs
and was answered by Fritz's yodel far away on the mountain
path. Bello pricked up his ears and whined. They called back and
forth in this way, the sounds growing fainter and fainter in the
distance, until they could no longer hear each other at ail, and
the Twins were for the first time quite alone on the mountain
with Bello and the goats.

When at last they reached the pasture, they threw themselves down
on the grass, and Leneli at once took her knitting out of her
pocket and went to work. Bello sighed and lay down beside her,
with his eyes on the goats. The sun was warm and it was very
still on the mountain-side. There was no sound except the tearing
noise made by the goats as they cropped the grass and the tinkle
of their bells. Then Seppi began to practice on his horn. He blew
and blew until he was red in the face, trying to play Fritz's
tune, but only a hoarse bellow came from its throat.

Leneli stood the noise for some time. Then she plucked a blade of
grass, stretched it across a hollow between her two thumbs, and,
when Seppi was not looking, blew with all her might right by his
ear! It made a fearful screech, which echoed and reechoed until
it seemed as if the very air had been broken into a million bits.

Seppi gave a screech of his own and clapped his hands over his
ears. "What did you do that for?" he said crossly, "just when I