“All right, Sandy. Would you like to know how to read music? In music there are signs standing for sounds, as the letters of the alphabet in combination form words, by which we express our thoughts. Do you catch what I mean?”
“Yes, I guess. But that’s funny. I thought you just learned the tune.”
“Put your chair near mine; I will show you some of the signs and symbols. What’s a symbol, Sandy?”
“Down in Mexico they tell me the gals play on them; banging them on their elbows and knees; that is the big ones and the little ones they click in their fingers.”
“Well, Sandy, this is another kind. Now this is a symbol in music, telling—” and so she went on for some time, Sandy listening attentively, with his head very near hers and their chairs as close together as he thought the occasion would justify.
[pg 63] When she finished he said: “Miss Jeannette, please play that fine piece of yourn?”
She played it through, then arranging his fingers on his bow, showed him just how he should stand; and playing a few notes at a time, instructed him to replay them.
That part of the music which was difficult and she felt satisfied she had not played correctly, it struck her Sandy played with greater ease and expression than she could do; but he made horribly ludicrous mistakes in the easy portions. Intentionally, she had misplayed a portion and when he reached this part he played it correctly. Then she knew that for some reason he was fooling them.
“Now Sandy, play it alone. Do your best, I shall go out on the porch and listen.”
He started off in a halting amateurish way, making many blunders; as he played his mistakes became fewer, his touch fuller; gradually he forgot his purpose to deceive, the music was a favorite; towards the end he played as she had never dreamed the piece could be played.