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And on the very first morrow came Polly's music teacher!
The big drawing-room, with its shaded light and draped furniture,
with its thick soft carpet, on which no foot-fall could be heard,
with all its beauty and loveliness on every side was nothing to
Polly's eyes, only the room that contained the piano!
That was all she saw! And when the teacher came he was simply
the Fairy (an ugly little one, it is true, but still a most powerful
being) who was to unlock its mysteries, and conduct her into
Fairyland itself. He was a homely little Frenchman, with a long,
curved nose, and an enormous black moustache, magnificently
waxed, who bowed elaborately, and called her "Mademoiselle
Fep-paire;" but he had music in his soul, and Polly couldn't
reverence him too much.
And now the big piano gave out new sounds; sounds that told of a
strong purpose and steady patience. Every note was struck for
mother and the home brood. Monsieur Tourtelotte, after watching
her keenly out of his little black eyes, would nod to himself like a
mandarin, and the nod would be followed by showers of extra
politeness, as his appreciation of her patient energy and attention.
Every chance she could get, Polly would steal away into the
drawing-room from Jappy and the three boys and all the attractions
they could offer, and laboriously work away over and over at the
tedious scales and exercises that were to be stepping-stones to so
much that was glorious beyond. Never had she sat still for so long
a time in her active little life; and now, with her arms at just such
an angle, with the stiff, chubby fingers kept under training and
restraint--well, Polly realized, years after, that only her love of the
little brown house could ever have kept her from flying up and
spinning around in perfect despair.
"She likes it!" said Percy, in absolute astonishment, one day, when
Polly had refused to go out driving with all the other children in
the park, and had gone resolutely, instead, into the drawing-room
and shut the door. "She likes those hateful old exercises and she
don't like anything else."
"Much you know about it," said Jappy; "she's perfectly aching to
go, now Percy Whitney!"
"Well, why don't she then?" said Percy, opening his eyes to their
widest extent.
"Cause," said Jasper, stopping on his way to the door to look him
full in the face, "she's commenced to learn to play, and there won't
anything stop her."
"I'm going to try," said Percy, gleefully. "I know lots of ways I can
do to try, anyway."
"See here, now," said Jasper, turning back, "you let her alone! Do
you hear?" he added, and there must have been something in his
eye to command attention, for Percy instantly signified his
intention not to tease this young music student in the least.
"Come on then, old fellow," and Jasper swung his cap on his head,
"Thomas will be like forty bears if we keep him waiting much
longer."
And Polly kept at it steadily day after day; getting through with the
lessons in the schoolroom as quickly as possible to rush to her
music, until presently the little Frenchman waxed enthusiastic to
that degree that, as day after day progressed and swelled into
weeks, and each lesson came to an end, he would skip away on the
tips of his toes, his nose in the air, and the waxed ends of his
moustache, fairly trembling with delight-- "Ah, such patience as
Mademoiselle Pep-paire has! I know no other such little
Americane!"
"I think," said Jasper one evening after dinner, when all the
children were assembled as usual in their favorite place on the big
rug in front of the fire in the library, Prince in the middle of the
group, his head on his paws, watching everything in infinite
satisfaction, "that Polly's getting on in music as I never saw anyone
do; and that's a fact!"
"I mean to begin," said Van, ambitiously, sitting up straight and
staring at the glowing coals. "I guess I will to-morrow," which
announcement was received with a perfect shout--Van's taste
being anything rather than of a musical nature.
"If you do," said Jappy, when the merriment had a little subsided,
"I shall go out of the house at every lesson; there won't anyone stay
in it, Van."
"I can bang all I want to, then," said Van, noways disturbed by the
reflection, and pulling one of Prince's long ears, "you think you're
so big, Jappy, just because you're thirteen."
"He's only three ahead of me, Van," bristled Percy, who never
could forgive Jappy for being his uncle, much less the still greater
sin of having been born three years earlier than himself.
"Let's tell stories," began Polly, who never could remember such
goings on in the little brown house; "we must each tell one," she
added with the greatest enthusiasm, "and see which will be the
biggest and the best."
"Oh, no," said Van, who perfectly revelled in Polly's stories, und
who now forgot his trials in the prospcct of one, "You tell,
Polly--you tell alone."
So Polly launched out into one of her gayest and finest; and soon
they were in such a peal of laughter, and had reached such heights
of enjoyment, that Mr. King popped his head in at the door, and
then came in, and took a seat in a big rocking-chair in the corner to
hear the fun go on.
"Oh, dear," said Van, leaning back with a long sigh, and wiping his
flushed face as Polly wound up with a triumphant flourish, 'how
ever do you think of such things, Polly Pepper?
"That isn't anything," said Jappy, bringing his handsome face out
into the strong light; "why, it's just nothing to what she has told
time and again in the little brown house in Badgertown;" and then
he caught sight of Polly's face, which turned a little pale in the
firelight as he spoke; and the brown eyes had such a pathetic droop
in them that it went to the boy's very heart.