Roberto del Duero and Tito Pesquera owned the El Corazón Consejo Music Co., makers of the finest handcrafted all occasion fifes and drums. Roberto and Tito made musical instruments for the Keizer brothers, Franco and Felipe. The brothers Keizer played feasts, bazaars and christenings, never turning down the opportunity to show off. The El Corazón Consejo Music Co., makers of handcrafted musical instruments, made surfeit fifes and drums in case they ran out of tin or steel tubing. The day of The Feast of Octave of St. Camillus the Keizer brothers pulled their oxcart up in front of the Church of the Perpetual Sinner and unloaded their musical instruments.
The man in the hat watched from a distance as the brothers set up in front of the big oak doors, the biggest of the brothers unrolling a rug made from the finest wool and silk thread, the smaller of the two brothers screwing the microphone posts into the cement courtyard. Once their kits were set up, the brothers began fiddled with dials and switches, levering this one down, this one up, turning this one to the left, this one to the right, until the two, smiling like Cheshire cats, felt that the volume and range was just so.
Off to the left, half hidden beneath the shade of the Seder Grocer’s awning, the alms man counted the day’s take, 25 twenty-five cent pieces, 75 coppers, 27 dimes and ½ a silver dollar. Pocketing the coins he jingled up the sideways, his alms cap sticking out of his trouser pocket, his nose held high above his cheek bones, the sky turning bluer with each step he took. At that very moment, as if by magic, the harridan’s sister turned the corner in front of the church, her trinket bag jangling at her side, the Keizer brothers (Franco and Felipe) espying her from the buckboard of their oxcart, the one brother saying to the other ‘…my, my a flower in a garden of weeds…’.
The man in the hat watched from a distance as the brothers set up in front of the big oak doors, the biggest of the brothers unrolling a rug made from the finest wool and silk thread, the smaller of the two brothers screwing the microphone posts into the cement courtyard. Once their kits were set up, the brothers began fiddled with dials and switches, levering this one down, this one up, turning this one to the left, this one to the right, until the two, smiling like Cheshire cats, felt that the volume and range was just so.
Off to the left, half hidden beneath the shade of the Seder Grocer’s awning, the alms man counted the day’s take, 25 twenty-five cent pieces, 75 coppers, 27 dimes and ½ a silver dollar. Pocketing the coins he jingled up the sideways, his alms cap sticking out of his trouser pocket, his nose held high above his cheek bones, the sky turning bluer with each step he took. At that very moment, as if by magic, the harridan’s sister turned the corner in front of the church, her trinket bag jangling at her side, the Keizer brothers (Franco and Felipe) espying her from the buckboard of their oxcart, the one brother saying to the other ‘…my, my a flower in a garden of weeds…’.
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