On Saturday Leo was carrying a chocolate cake in a black bag to his grandmother Rosa's ninetieth birthday party, which started at one o'clock. On the same tram sat Hana, who plays the tuba. Her tuba was in a black case, and her concert started at one o'clock too.
The tram was crowded, and both of them were on the phone. They put their bags on the rack, and each of them left with the wrong one.
At half past twelve Hana opened her case backstage and found a cake and a card: "For Rosa, 90 today. Call Leo." At the same moment Leo opened his bag outside his grandmother's door, with twenty relatives waiting behind it, and found a tuba. They called each other. "Do you have my cake?" "Do you have my tuba?" They agreed to meet at the fountain at ten to one.
Leo ran with the tuba on his back, and a street musician threw him a coin. Hana ran with the cake in front of her like a baby. They swapped bags at the fountain. "Sorry about the cream," said Hana. "Sorry about the tuba," said Leo. "I blew it once. It sounded like a sad cow."
At one o'clock exactly Hana played her first note, and the conductor sniffed. "Why does it smell like a bakery?" Across town Leo walked in with the cake. "In ninety years," said Rosa, "I never had such fun. Next year I want a tuba too."
