ut his violin and
asked David to come in and play a duet with him. The duet, however,
soon became a solo, for so great was Mr. Jack's delight in David's
playing that he placed before the boy one sheet of music after another,
begging and still begging for more.

David, nothing loath, played on and on. Most of the music he knew,
having already learned it in his mountain home. Like old friends the
melodies seemed, and so glad was David to see their notes again that he
finished each production with a little improvised cadenza of ecstatic
welcome--to Mr. Jack's increasing surprise and delight.

"Great Scott! you're a wonder, David," he exclaimed, at last.

"Pooh! as if that was anything wonderful," laughed the boy. "Why, I
knew those ages ago, Mr. Jack. It's only that I'm so glad to see them
again--the notes, you know. You see, I haven't any music now. It was
all in the bag (what we brought), and we left that on the way."

"You left it!"

"Yes, 't was so, heavy" murmured David abstractedly, his fingers busy
with the pile of music before him. "Oh, and here's another one," he
cried exultingly. "This is where the wind sighs, 'oou--OOU--OOU'
through the pines. Listen!" And he was away again on the wings of his
violin. When he had returned Mr. Jack drew a long breath.

"David, you are a wonder," he declared again. "And that violin of yours
is a wonder, too, if I'm not mistaken,--though I don't know enough to
tell whether it's really a rare one or not. Was it your father's?"

"Oh, no. He had one, too, and they both are good ones. Father said so.
Joe's got father's now."

"Joe?"

"Joe Glaspell."

"You don't mean Widow Glaspell's Joe, the blind boy? I didn't know he
could play."

"He couldn't till I showed him. But he likes to hear me play. And he
understood--right away, I mean."

"UNDERSTOOD!"

"What I was playing, you know. And he was almost the first one that
did--since father went away. And now I play every time I go there. Joe
says he never knew before how trees and grass and sunsets and sunrises
and birds and little brooks did look, till I told him with my violin.
Now he says he thinks he can see them better than I can, because as
long as his OUTSIDE eyes can't see anything, they can't see those ugly
things all around him, and so he can just make his INSIDE eyes see only
the beautiful things that he'd LIKE to see. And that's the kind he does
see when I play. That's why I said he understood."

For a moment th