Chapter III: Frankie's Music Lesson

FRANKIE was generally a good boy; but sometimes, he did not like to obey his mother, and tried to argue with her. This is very naughty; for God has commanded children to obey their parents promptly and cheerfully.

One morning, Frankie ran into the sitting-room, where his mother was writing a letter, and said,—

"Ma, the boys are going to the woods for nuts,—may I go?"

"What time do they start, my dear?" she asked.

"Oh, we're going to get an early dinner! Ann can give me a piece of pie, and I'll be off by one o'clock. Say, ma, may I go?"

"But, Frankie, don't you remember you promised to carry some yarn to poor Nancy? That must be done first."

"But, ma, I didn't know then that the boys were going to the woods. I'll carry the yarn some other day."

"Poor Nancy is dependent on her knitting for her daily bread, my son."

"Can't Edward carry it to her, then?"

"Edward has his drawing lesson."

Frankie began to look red and angry; but presently brightened with the words,—"I'll run to Nancy's right away, if you'll let me. Tony may go with me."

"Have you practised your music, my dear?"

The boy's face grew dark.

"No, ma, I haven't. I hate music, and I wish I never need take another lesson, Mr. Lenox is so cross."

The lady looked grieved. "I can remember," she said, "when a little boy begged his father to allow him to take lessons on the piano; and, when his mother objected on account of the time it would be necessary for him to practise, he exclaimed,—"

"'Oh, you never need fear for me! I had rather learn music than to play. I will promise to practise the lessons as much as you wish me to.'"

"I didn't know then how hateful music was. I wish now I need never see a piano again."

Mrs. Colvin was displeased to hear her son talk in this way, and to see him look so angry. She raised her heart in prayer to God that she might rightly train this darling child.

Presently she said, in a firm voice,—

"Frankie, go to the parlor and practise one hour by the clock. Then, if you can run to Nancy's before dinner with the yarn, I am willing you should join your companions in the woods. But remember all depends on your prompt attention to your music."

"It's lonesome in the parlor, ma."

"Your aunt is there sewing, and she will help you count the time."

Frank went through the hall slowly, as if to an unpleasant task; for every day he grew more neglectful of his practice, and gave greater offence to his teacher. The piano was already open; so, after spending four or five minutes in finding the place in his book and pushing the music-stool back and forth, he took his seat.

"How long are you going to practise," inquired his aunt, in a cheerful voice.

"An hour," answered Frank, gloomily.

"Well, it's exactly ten now."

"But I've been here five minutes. I looked when I came in."

"Come, now, Frankie," urged the lady, "be a good boy, and I'll help you. If you give your whole attention to it, you will learn the lesson well in an hour."

Frankie's lingers Cell upon the keys; but his eyes had a vacant look, and Aunt Sarah knew then, just as well as she did at the end of the hour, that the time would be wasted. She took up her book again, and the boy began to play over and over one of his first lessons, which he could do without any effort.

Five minutes more passed in this manner, when Tony poked her nose through the crack of the door, which stood ajar, and then made her way into the room, barking joyfully that she had found her young master. This was a very good excuse, the boy thought, for taking a recess; so down he got from the stool, and had a fine romp with the dog on the floor.

"Do you call that practising your lesson?" asked his aunt, laughing.

"My fingers ache so," he began; but she interrupted him.

"I'll keep the time for you. Five minutes lost already."

Frankie suddenly recollected the nutting, and, seating himself quickly, began to thumb over the same lesson again.

"Now, Frankie, that's too bad!" she said, reprovingly. "Begin on the new lesson. You have diddled that over and over till I'm tired of it."

A merry laugh from behind the door made them both turn in a hurry.

"Yes, Frankie, that's just it. You do nothing but diddle over that one strain. I should think you would be ashamed of yourself when pa's paying so much money for your lessons."

"Now, Frank, I'm going to lay by my book, and attend to you," said Aunt Sarah; "you must give your mind to it."

She drew a chair close to his side, and, pointing out the notes, said, firmly, "Begin there!"

He did so, and for a short time picked out the notes quite correctly, his aunt counting the time for him; but a slight movement of Tony from the floor to the sofa, which she thought would be an easier resting-place, upset him again.

"My head aches terribly," he exclaimed.

"You always say so," muttered Edward. "I wouldn't be such a baby."

After this, it was quite in vain that Aunt Sarah tried to fix his attention. He did indeed touch a few chords; but nothing was accomplished. He complained continually that his head ached.

It wanted fifteen minutes of eleven when his mother came in.

"How do you come on, my dear?" she asked. "I'll hear you now."

"Ma, my head aches so dreadfully."

She looked directly in his eyes.

"It does truly, ma; I began right earnest, Aunt Sarah will tell you, but—"

There was something in her face which prevented him from going further.

"Where does your last lesson commence, my dear?"

He reluctantly pointed out the page.

"Let me hear how well you can play it."

"O Frankie!" she exclaimed, after he had touched a few chords. "What will your teacher say?"

"I couldn't play with such a bad headache, ma."

"Well, you may go to your room now, and lie down, while I carry the yarn to Nancy."

Frank sprang from the stool with an eagerness which surprised them, exclaiming,—

"Can't I go nutting, then?"

"Of course not. Take off your clothes and go to bed till I return."