"And good-tempered."
"Right," said little William, clapping louder than before.
"And very fond of the little boy who sits on my knee."
"Oh! right, right, quite right!" exclaimed the child, and "quite right" echoed on all sides.
"But how do you know so much, when you are blind?" said William, looking hard at the old man.
"Hush!" whispered John, who was a year older than his brother and very wise, "you should not remind him that he is blind."
"Though I am blind," said the harper, "I can hear, you know, and I heard from your sister herself all that I told you of her, that she was good-tempered and good-natured and fond of you."
"Oh, that's wrong—you did not hear all that from her, I'm sure," said John, "for nobody ever hears her praising herself."
"Did not I hear her tell you," said the harper, "when you first came round me, that she was in a great hurry to go home, but that she would stay a little while, since you wished it so much? Was not that good-natured? And when you said you did not like the tune she liked best, she was not angry with you, but said, 'Then play William's first, if you please.' Was not that good-tempered?"