"It looks awful hard, ma," he said; "but I'll do it." So he began, slowly at first, picking out the chords of one line and then repeating the strains until it became familiar. Then he went on to the next, until he was himself surprised at his success.
"Bravo! Bravo! My dear child," exclaimed his loving father. "I doubt whether I could play better myself."
Frankie jumped. "Why, pa, I didn't know you were here. Stop a minute, please, and hear how nicely I have learned my whole lesson."
"How long do you think you have been practising?" asked his mother, kissing him.
"I don't know, ma; I never once thought of the time."
"One hour and twenty minutes. You have done well, my dear child."
"And my fingers don't ache at all. They only feel stiff a little. Now, ma, I feel as if I could dance, I'm so very glad. But wont Mr. Lenox be surprised, though? He'll say, 'Frankie Colvin, take your place on the stool;' and he'll frown and be all ready to scold when he finds I haven't practised the last lesson. Oh, it will be fun to see him!"
"Why, Frank," said his father; "you dance and hop about for all the world like Tony."
"I'm so happy, pa. This dear little doggy has given me one good lesson, and I love her better than ever," he added, hugging the faithful creature.
"It is a lesson," said his mother, gravely, "which I hope you will remember as long as you may live. Prompt, cheerful obedience, in the performance of duty, makes old and young happy. Now, my darling, you shall take a walk with me; and then it will be time for tea."