"Did you call him 'Jack'?"
"Yes."
"And he called you, Jill'?"
"Yes."
"The real 'Jack and Jill' that 'went up the hill'?" The man and the girl laughed; but the girl shook her head as she answered,—
"Not really—though we do go up a hill, all right, every day. But those aren't even our own names. We just call each other that for fun. Don't YOU ever call things—for fun?"
David's face lighted up in spite of the dirt, the lump, and the bruise.
"Oh, do you do that?" he breathed. "Say, I just know I'd like to play to you! You'd understand!"
"Oh, yes, and he plays, too," explained the little girl, turning to the man rapturously. "On a fiddle, you know, like you."
She had not finished her sentence before David was away, hurrying a little unsteadily across the lot for his violin. When he came back the man was looking at him with an anxious frown.