Teas ready!

When we were young, and daft, we used to roam all over the place; but one of our favourite haunts was "down Whinnies" (Whinbarrow lane). There was a disused sandstone quarry we infested, built dens in etc.
Trouble was it was far too far away for a mere SHOUT, or even a whistle, had Mam been able to.
NOT much she couldn't do, but whistle was one of them.
In our youth it was somewhat better looking.
IF the link works; imagine this with green cordage & you're getting near it.

I see it's another unreliable link. :¬( 
AHA - that's better; no knowing how long it's good for though.

I have NO idea whence it came, but equally have no memory of it entering the house.
It's quite capable of making a hideous racket, loud enough to fetch us home at meal times, but I doubt the Cornet mouth-piece helps at all.
* ~ *
The town band used to "do the rounds" on Christmas morning and tended to drop off at our house for a brew, or a noggin.
Old Bobby asked for a look at it, having stayed on after the band left being "not the best of fettles".

He blew "something" on it.
I suspect Mam may have known, but asked:-
"What's that Bobby, reveille?"
"NAY lass, last Post."
He died shortly after, of cancer; the only bloke I know to have ever  played his own "Last Post".

:¬(