Unhesitatingly he determined to instruct Mr.Jack in this little matter.

He would tell him what a beautiful place Sunnycrest was, and he would try to convince him how very desirable it was that he and Jill, and even Mr.Jack himself, should go across the bridge at the very first opportunity that offered.
Mr.Jack came home before long, but David quite forgot to speak of the footbridge just then, chiefly because Mr.Jack got out his violin and asked David to come in and play a duet with him.

The duet, however, soon became a solo, for so great was Mr.Jack's delight in David's playing that he placed before the boy one sheet of music after another, begging and still begging for more.
David, nothing loath, played on and on.

Most of the music he knew, having already learned it in his mountain home.

Like old friends the melodies seemed, and so glad was David to see their notes again that he finished each production with a little improvised cadenza of ecstatic welcome--to Mr.Jack's increasing surprise and delight.
"Great Scott! you're a wonder, David," he exclaimed, at last.
"Pooh! as if that was anything wonderful," laughed the boy.