A slow red came to his face.

The phrase was peculiarly a difficult one, and beyond him, as he knew; but that did not make the present intrusion into his privacy any the more welcome.
"Oh, will we, indeed!" he retorted, a little sharply.

"Don't trouble yourself, I beg of you, boy." "But it isn't a mite of trouble, truly," urged David, with an ardor that ignored the sarcasm in the other's words.

"I WANT to do it." Despite his annoyance, the man gave a short laugh.
"Well, David, I believe you.

And I'll warrant you'd tackle this Brahms concerto as nonchalantly as you did those six hoodlums with the cat the other day--and expect to win out, too!" "But, truly, this is easy, when you know how," laughed the boy.