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So Button started bravely on, and tried so hard that she was soon out of breath. As she paused, she said with a gasp, "Isn't Susan a dear girl? She gives ALL the best things to other people, and is kind to the old harper. She didn't send him away, as you did the music-man to-day, and tell him to be still." "Organs are a nuisance, and I never allow them here.
She also grew from a sickly, fretful child into a fine, strong woman, because she ate very little cake and candy, except at Christmas time, when the oldest and the wisest love to make a short visit to Candy-land. "A music-man! a music-man! Run quick, and see if he has got a monkey on his organ," cried little Neddy, running to the window in a great hurry one day.
Far away in the distance she heard their music again, and it did not come from under ground. She ran to overtake it, and turned into Bleecker Street. No music-man there, but a good supply of oranges and apples. "Needn't folks put their hands in, and take some out the barrels? Then why for did the folks put 'em on' doors?"
Down Sixth Avenue went the music-man, and close at his heels went she. By and by she saw a little girl, no larger than herself, with a great bundle on her shoulders. "You don't s'pose she's got a music on her back? No, not a music; it's too soft all swelled out in a bunch."
'He's a music-man, said the landlord, 'or at least that's what he told me, miss; come down here to write an op'ra. 'Really! cried Julia, 'I never heard of anything so delightful! Why, we shall be able to slip down at night and hear him improvise! What' is his name? 'Jimson, said the man. 'Jimson? repeated Julia, and interrogated her memory in vain.
The horses took fright at a travelling music-man who came along, and must begin just then to play. Off they started full run, dragging Lars, who hung on to the reins until they stopped. The fingers on his left hand were cut to the bones. They were long healing, and a sight to be seen then at the best. The right wasn't much better, dragged along the road as it had been.
"He's a music-man," said the landlord, "or at least that's what he told me, miss; come down here to write an op'ra." "Really!" cried Julia, "I never heard of anything so delightful! Why, we shall be able to slip down at night and hear him improvise! What is his name?" "Jimson," said the man. "Jimson?" repeated Julia, and interrogated her memory in vain.
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