While we were in Cambridge yesterday, Bruna and I stopped to listen to, and then to talk to, a tall skinny lass who was busking on a cigarbox guitar. Turns out she makes them herself, and is so obsessed with them that, she said, her house is filling up with them. The cigarbox guitar has a pedigree a mile long, starting out in the early jazz years along with the kazoo, the gutbucket bass and other instruments home-made from bits and pieces. Hers was a three-string, which she played in the hawaiian manner. Here's an exponent of a six-string version.