Ch5-Go ’Long, Mule

CHAPTER FIVE Go 'Long, Male. The sky had grown cloudy, and a warm breeze was blowing. Dipper stopped the cart and listened. "Hear that?" he said. "Parade's coming this way." Jack heard band music in the distance. "Is that parade for All Saints' Day?" asked Annie.

"Maybe. Or maybe for a million other things," said Dipper. "Folks in this city will find any excuse for a parade." Soon the parade came into view. Horseback riders wore plumed hats and black masks. Following them were people dressed up as clowns, kings, queens, fairies with fluttering wings, ghosts, and skeletons.

"We read that New Orleans might be the most haunted city in the country," Annie said to Dipper, "especially on the eve of All Saints' Day. We heard there're real ghosts in a cathedral, a hotel, and a blacksmith shop." "Yeah, and plenty more places, too," said Dipper. "But I'm not afraid of ghosts. I'm not afraid of anything." "Me neither!" said Annie. "Um, me neither," said Jack. A band followed the people in costumes. The musicians were playing trumpets, tubas, trombones, and drums—lots of drums. The joyous music filled the New Orleans air. Jack and Annie couldn't help nodding their heads in time to the

beat. Jack noticed that Dipper was nodding his head, too. "Hey, there're the fellas!" said Annie. Happy, Little Mack, and Big Nose Sidney were walking alongside the band, singing their hearts out. "Looks like they're having fun!" said Annie. She nudged Jack. "Doesn't it?" "Yeah!" said Jack. "A lot of fun! Music is so much fun! I wish I had musical talent! You're so lucky, Dipper!" "You really are, Dipper!" said Annie. "Musical talent is really a great gift to share with the world!"

Dipper just shook his head, as if he thought they were crazy. "Biggest potato heads I've ever met," he said. Jack and Annie laughed. Dipper gave the reins a shake. "Go 'long, Lady. Keep me on my path." How weird that Dipper said that, Jack thought. Their mission was to keep him on the right path, too—the path to becoming the King of Jazz. As Lady plodded along the bank of the Mississippi, Dipper started singing nonsense words: Skid-dat-de-dat Skid-dat-de-doo!

"That sounds so cool," said Jack. "What's that song?" "Not a song. I'm just scat-singing, man," said Dipper. "Scat-singing?" said Annie. "What's that?" "When you can't think of words, just sing sounds," said Dipper. "Make 'em up. If you put your heart in it, folks will understand you." "I didn't know a person could make music like that," said Jack. "Heck, yeah, you can make music any way you want," said Dipper. "Just listen to the world: There's church bells, the washerwoman singing about her wash, the ragman blasting his tin horn