' It reminds him of his own happy young days or else recalls
the little ones at home at play with their toys. I know I thought of
my own dear little tots when I heard the strain. How that girl did
play the splendid old melody! I closed my eyes. The garden became a
mountain stream, the tones of the violin its beautiful ripples--
ripples which flowed right on even when the sound had ceased.
"'Home, Sweet Home!' I thought of mine. I thought of the girl's--a
beer garden!
"'Boys,' said I to Jerry and his partner, 'I am going up to shake
hands with that girl; I owe her a whole lot. She's a genius.' I went.
And I thanked her, too, and told her how well she had played and how
happy she had made me.
"'I'm glad somebody can be happy,' she answered, drooping her big,
blue eyes.
"'But aren't you happy in your music?' I asked.
"'Yes,' she replied in such a sad way that it meant a million nos.
"When I went back to my friends they told me the girl's father was not
of much account or otherwise he would send her off to a good teacher.
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