ou know what to select. I'd
just as lief it was a piano or a organ or what.'

"'I see in St. Louis once what they call a orchestrion [93],' says
Uncle Cal, 'that I judged was about the finest thing in the way of
music ever invented. But there ain't room in this house for one.
Anyway, I imagine they'd cost a thousand dollars. I reckon something
in the piano line would suit Marilla the best. She took lessons in that
respect for two years over at Birdstail. I wouldn't trust the buying
of an instrument to anybody else but myself. I reckon if I hadn't
took up sheep-raising I'd have been one of the finest composers or
piano-and-organ manufacturers in the world.'

[FOOTNOTE 93: orchestrion--a large mechanical instrument capable
of imitating various musical instruments or even an
entire orchestra. It usually included components of
an organ, piano, and percussion instruments. Those
made by the Seeburg Company were also called
nickelodeons because they played when a coin was
inserted into a slot. The Seeburg Company later made
"juke boxes."]

"That was Uncle Cal's style. But I never lost any patience with him,
on account of his thinking so much of Marilla. And she thought just
as much of him. He sent her to the academy over at Birdstail for two
years when it took nearly every pound of wool to pay the expenses.

"Along about Tuesday Uncle Cal put out for San Antone on the last
wagonload of wool. Marilla's uncle Ben, who lived in Birdstail, come
over and stayed at the ranch while Uncle Cal was gone.

"It was ninety miles to San Antone, and forty to the nearest
railroad-station, so Uncle Cal was gone about four days. I was over
at the Double-Elm when he came rolling back one evening about sundown.
And up there in the wagon, sure enough, was a piano or a organ--we
couldn't tell which--all wrapped up in woolsacks, with a wagon-sheet
tied over it in case of rain. And out skips Marilla, hollering, 'Oh,
oh!' with her eyes shining and her hair a-flying. 'Dad--dad,' she sings
out, 'have you brought it--have you brought it?'--and it right there
before her eyes, as women will do.

"'Finest piano in San Antone,' says Uncle Cal, waving his hand, proud.
'Genuine rosewood, and the finest, loudest tone you ever listened to.
I heard the storekeeper play it, and I took it on the spot and paid
cash down.'