 It was dirty. It was corroded. They picked it up. They cleaned it off so it was usable. And he started to play, to blow, as he would say. He kept on blowing for the rest of his life on that cornet and on other instruments. But at that point, he was simply using it to attract attention for their business as he was going down the street with them. As a youngster in a little orphanage home in New Orleans, I was the bugler of the institution.