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to being strummed that he begins to shake whenever music passes through his head." 
The bass wire cleared his throat and ran down the scale until he hit a not that seemed to come from the bottom of his feet.
"You see, he was only thinking about a little music," said another one of the wires.
"And you will shake, also, when you have worked awhile on the bass fiddle," said the bass wire.
Bitsy swallowed once or twice. He did not want to shake all of the time. What would his family say if he came home with the shakes?
"I think I will look for something else to do," he said backing away. "I never was very musical anyhow."
The ringmaster made a grab for Bitsy, nut he was not quick enough. Bitsy ran right through the center of the tent, his long, red scarf flying behind him. Everyone made a grab at the scarf as he ran. It slipped right through the grasp of the clowns, the bears, the seals, the elephants and the bareback riders. Bitsy did not see the man with the handlebar mustache. The man was bending over in the opening of the tent, smoothing the wrinkles out of his tights. With a crash his body hit the man's knees. Both of them fell to the ground.