The teacher's surprise and mistrust increased.
"Rico," he said severely, "what am I to think of you? Have you come purposely to ask useless questions, or what is your idea? Will you tell me what object you have in asking me what you did?"
"I only wish to find out what a violin costs," said Rico, still trembling at his own boldness.
"You do not understand, Rico; now listen to what I say. One asks something for a reason, otherwise it would be a useless question. Now answer me truthfully, Rico, did you ask me this out of curiosity, or did some one who wishes to buy a violin send you?"
"I should like to buy one," said Rico, a little more bravely.
"What did you say?" broke out the teacher, impatiently. "Such a senseless boy—and an Italian besides—to wish to buy a violin! You scarcely know what a violin is. Can you imagine how old I was before I was able to buy one? I was twenty-two years old and ready to enter my life work as teacher. What a child, to think of buying a violin! Now, to show you how foolish you are, I will tell you the price of one. Six solid dollars is what I paid for mine. Can you grasp an idea of the amount? We will put it into pennies. If one dollar contains one hundred pennies, then six dollars would contain six times one hundred, which is—Now, Rico, you are not dull at your studies; six times one hundred is—"
"Six hundred pennies," supplemented Rico, softly, for his voice nearly failed him as he compared Stineli's twelve pennies with this large sum.
"But further, Rico," continued the teacher, "do you suppose that one need only to buy a violin in order to play it? One has to do much more than that. Just step in and let me show you."
The teacher opened the door as he spoke and took down the violin from its place on the wall.
"There, take it on your arm and hold the bow in your hand; so, my boy. Now, if you can sound C, D, E, F, I will give you a half dollar right away."