“And did he really like to practice?” asked Bobby unbelievingly.
“Yes, indeed, and he came to be a fine violinist and owned a violin that cost a great deal of money, but he always kept that first one, too.
“There! Mother’s calling you to bed.”
AT THE FAIR
“We’re going to the fair tomorrow, Grandma. It’s childrens’ day,” announced Bobby one evening when he and Alice and Pink came to Grandma’s room for their usual evening call and story.
“Are you going, Grandma?” inquired Pink.
“Why, I may go. I don’t know yet. Do you like to go to the fair?”
“Yeh, boy!” interrupted Bobby eagerly. “And this year they’re going to give a pony away. I wish I’d get that pony.”
“That would be nice,” agreed Grandma. “I think I’ll tell you tonight about the time we took our horse, Prince, to the fair at Clayville. I had been to the fair several times before, and I always loved to go. To get up early in the morning, and dress and eat breakfast and start before daylight with a big basket of dinner tucked away in the back of the surrey; to take the long pleasant drive through the cool of the morning and at last go through the gates into the fair grounds and see all the people and hear the noise of the sideshow barkers and the bands and the balloon whistles and the lowing of cattle, uneasy because of their strange quarters, was every bit of it a joy to me—usually.