There is, at work, a toilet that for several years has periodically sounded a sort of whistle, somewhat like a bagpipe, only more singular and somewhat more cheerful like a toy tugboat whistling while working or a teapot on a chilly day, and so somewhat unlike the more baleful and duplicitous unharmonies of the bagpipe, but sharing a certain timber nonetheless.
I once mentally composed a silly about "The Ballad of the Singing Loo" but forgot it while washing my hands.
Anyhow, I brought my guitar tuner to work today. After a cup a coffee I hit the facilities and waited for the whistle, tuner in hand.
It starts around a "C" and gathers steam before blowing a perfect "D."