At the blacksmith's shop the band paused.
Tink, tink, tink, tink, Tink, tink-a-tink-tink-tink.
Tink tink, tink, tink, Tink, tink-a-tink-tink-tink.
The conductor graduated the tempo so as to include the rhythmic beat of the hammer with the other instruments in his band.

The blacksmith looked, smiled and let his hammer fall in consonance with the beat of the boy's hand, and for some moments there was glorious harmony between anvil and mouth organ and the band invisible.

At the store door across the street the band paused long enough simply to give and receive an answering salute from the storekeeper, who smiled upon his boy as he marched past.

At the crossroads the band paused, marking time.

There was evidently a momentary uncertainty in the leader's mind as to direction.
The road to the right led straight, direct, but treeless, dusty, uninviting, to the school.