"There's always something new in this, you know," he hurried on, as he tightened one of the strings, "when there's anything new outside.

Now, listen! You see I don't know myself just how it's going to sound, and I'm always so anxious to find out." And with a joyously rapt face he began to play.
"But, see here, boy,--you mustn't! You--" The words died on her lips; and, to her unbounded amazement, Miss Barbara Holbrook, who had intended peremptorily to send this persistent little tramp boy about his business, found herself listening to a melody so compelling in its sonorous beauty that she was left almost speechless at its close.

It was the boy who spoke.
"There, I told you my violin would know what to say!" "'What to say'!--well, that's more than I do" laughed Miss Holbrook, a little hysterically.

"Boy, come here and tell me who you are." And she led the way to a low divan that stood near a harp at the far end of the room.
It was the same story, told as David had told it to Jack and Jill a few days before, only this time David's eyes were roving admiringly all about the room, resting oftenest on the harp so near him.
"Did that make the music that I heard ?" he asked eagerly, as soon as Miss Holbrook's questions gave him opportunity.

"It's got strings." "Yes.