, two,
three!"

I should have thought myself a hopeless case, and given up, had I not one
morning overheard him boasting to some of the musicians: "That I was a
good enough leading woman, he supposed, but it was as a piano pupil that
I really counted for something. Why," he cried, "she has the most perfect
ear, and such steadiness--a whole band-wagon of instruments turned loose
on her wouldn't make her lose time!"

I smiled and felt of my even then burning ear, but still his boast
encouraged me to return to my scales, which were wofully interrupted by
the necessity I experienced of clawing up with my nails several old keys
that were too weak to rise again having once been pressed down.

When Mr. Navoni played, and he came to one of those tired-out ivories, he
put a _damn_ in the place of the absent note, but for obvious reasons I
could not do that. But Mr. Navoni was an earnest, determined, and
enthusiastic teacher, and I remember him gratefully and respectfully.

The widow of the boarding-house differs from the widow of the Testament
in that the boarding-house widow's cruse of oil seems always "just out,"
and her meal at a like low ebb. Neither my mother nor myself were used to
luxuries; we expected little, and, truth to tell, we got it. To say we
were nearly always hungry would be putting things quite mildly, but we
were _together_! and so 'twas better to feel a bit "gone" under the belt
than to be filled to repletion and live apart.

I worked hard at all times, and five nights out of seven I had to study
till far on toward morning. The Saturday brought me a double performance,
and left me a wreck; thus I thought I had a right to a bit of a treat on
Sunday; and I can see the important air mother unconsciously assumed as
she went forth on her secret errand--secret that no offence might be
given to the economical landlady.

When the matinee was over I brought home my personal offering for our
next day's comfort and pleasure--a copy of an illustrated weekly paper
and five cents' worth of candy, always something hard that would last us
long while we read. Thus on Saturday night, on the sill of the back
window, there stood a small can of oysters, while in the top drawer
rested a box marked handkerchiefs, but which held crackers, beside it a
folded paper, and on top of that the wee package of candy.

I had a membership at the library on the corner, so we had books, too,
thank heaven! I have always been a fairly regul