ef.

And then he discovered Joe.

David had found himself in a very strange, very unlovely neighborhood
that afternoon. The street was full of papers and tin cans, the houses
were unspeakably forlorn with sagging blinds and lack of paint. Untidy
women and blear-eyed men leaned over the dilapidated fences, or lolled
on mud-tracked doorsteps. David, his shrinking eyes turning from one
side to the other, passed slowly through the street, his violin under
his arm. Nowhere could David find here the tiniest spot of beauty to
"play." He had reached quite the most forlorn little shanty on the
street when the promise in his father's letter occurred to him. With a
suddenly illumined face, he raised his violin to position and plunged
into a veritable whirl of trills and runs and tripping melodies.

"If I didn't just entirely forget that I didn't NEED to SEE anything
beautiful to play," laughed David softly to himself. "Why, it's already
right here in my violin!"

David had passed the tumble-down shanty, and was hesitating where two
streets crossed, when he felt a light touch on his arm. He turned to
confront a small girl in a patched and faded calico dress, obviously
outgrown. Her eyes were wide and frightened. In the middle of her
outstretched dirty little palm was a copper cent.

"If you please, Joe sent this--to you," she faltered.

"To me? What for?" David stopped playing and lowered his violin.

The little girl backed away perceptibly, though she still held out the
coin.

"He wanted you to stay and play some more. He said to tell you he'd 'a'
sent more money if he could. But he didn't have it. He just had this
cent."

David's eyes flew wide open.

"You mean he WANTS me to play? He likes it?" he asked joyfully.

"Yes. He said he knew 't wa'n't much--the cent. But he thought maybe
you'd play a LITTLE for it."

"Play? Of course I'll play" cried David. "Oh, no, I don't want the
money," he added, waving the again-proffered coin aside. "I don't need
money where I'm living now. Where is he--the one that wanted me to
play?" he finished eagerly.

"In there by the window. It's Joe. He's my brother." The little girl,
in spite of her evident satisfaction at the accomplishment of her
purpose, yet kept quite aloof from the boy. Nor did the fact that he
refused the money appear to bring her anything but uneasy surprise.

In the window David saw a boy apparently about his own age, a boy with
sandy hair, pale cheeks, and wid