He liked teasing Milly, he liked his walks, he liked his sleep in the morning, he liked his dinner, he liked his tea, he liked everything in the world, except learning to read, and that he hated.

He could only do one thing besides mischief.

He could sing all kinds of tunes--quick tunes, slow tunes, and merry tunes.

He had been able to sing tunes ever since he was quite a tiny baby, and his father and mother often talked together of how, in about a year, he should be taught to play on the piano, or perhaps on the violin, if he liked it better.

You might hear his sharp, shrill little voice, singing about the house and the garden all day long.