came up to watch the boy; for, as if he was in his element now,
Nat played away and never minded any one, while his eyes shone,
his cheeks reddened, and his thin fingers flew, as he hugged the
old fiddle and made it speak to all their hearts the language that he
loved.

A hearty round of applause rewarded him better than a shower of
pennies, when he stopped and glanced about him, as if to say:

"I've done my best; please like it."

"I say, you do that first rate," cried Tommy, who considered Nat
his prot‚g‚.

"You shall be the first fiddle in my band," added Franz, with an
approving smile.

Mrs. Bhaer whispered to her husband:

"Teddy is right: there's something in the child." And Mr. Bhaer
nodded his head emphatically, as he clapped Nat on the shoulder,
saying, heartily:

"You play well, my son. Come now and play something which we
can sing."

It was the proudest, happiest minute of the poor boy's life when he
was led to the place of honor by the piano, and the lads gathered
round, never heeding his poor clothes, but eying him respectfully
and waiting eagerly to hear him play again.