A Baton for the Ringmaster

I noticed the dark hollow of the tall metal umbrella stand by the front door, just begging for a proper examination. Inside rested a single long wooden shoehorn with a curved brass handle, practically crying out to become my official conductor's baton! I stretched upward, grasped the smooth polished wood, and hoisted it out of the container with exaggerated ceremony. It was twice my height, wobbling magnificently against the tiled floor as I struck a regal, commanding pose. With a heavy thumping cadence, I rapped the brass curve against the ceramic floor. The reverberating echo demanded absolute reverence from every corner of the hallway!