“Teddy—Theodore Burke, ma’am.”
“Well, Teddy, who taught you to sing?”
“No one—I mean—I hear my mother sing and I sing, too,” stammered Teddy.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that you have a beautiful voice?”
Teddy’s face blazed with fresh embarrassment at the complimentary grilling he was undergoing. He hung his head and made no reply.
“Well, if no one else ever told you, I am going to tell you now,” Miss Verne said in brisk fashion. “You are just the boy I am looking for to sing the leading part in the Christmas musical play we are getting up. Would you like to sing in it?”
“Yes, ma’am. I mean, no, ma’am. I don’t—know—whether I would like it or not,” floundered Teddy.
“Of course you would. The only part you won’t like is rehearsing after the store closes.”
“I don’t mind that,” admitted the boy.