"Yes. I believe you can win popularity by your playing. We can tell better this time to-morrow. If you do, how can we tell but the rest may also come true?" "If it were the violin or the banjo! But a little cheap harmonica!" "Never mind what the instrument is if you know how to handle it. Now let me tell you one thing that will encourage you: I think we are going to have a big house." "What makes you think so?" "There hasn't been an entertainment in Granville for several weeks. The people are hungry to be amused. They patronize performances like ours much better in the West than at the East. There the people are more humdrum and steady going. Here they are more excitable. Now I am going to give you a hint. Take a walk out into the woods, or anywhere where you will be alone, and practice popular songs. I want you to make a sensation this evening." "It seems ridiculous, my playing for money!" "How much money have you in your pocket?" "Five cents." "Then it strikes me it would be more ridiculous _not_ playing for money. Whatever talents we possess our Creator meant us to exercise for our benefit and the pleasure of the community." "At any rate I'll do my best." "Then you'll do all I ask. By the way, I am going to have you take the tickets this evening, up to the time of the performance. It will save money, and draw public attention." "I can do that, at any rate." During the forenoon Dean went to a secluded place a mile from the village, and began to practice on the harmonica. He had a quick ear, and was really an excellent performer. He was unaware that he had an audience till a boy attracted his attention peeping from behind a tree at a little distance. Dean nodded and smiled, and the boy was encouraged to come forward. "Are you Dean Dunham, the boy that's going to be at the concert?" asked the young auditor, bashfully. "Yes." "How long have you played?" "Four or five years." "How old are you?" "Almost sixteen." "What lots of money you must have made!" Dean smiled. He thought it most prudent not to speak definitely on this point. He was rather curious to know what the boy thought of his playing. "Can you play on the harmonica?" he asked. "Only a little. Of course I can't play like you." "Do you like my playing, then?" "You play bully." Dean was gratified, not so much out of vanity, as because it encouraged him to think that others also might regard his performance with favor. "I am glad you like it," he said. "Are you going to the entertainment this evening?" "I should like to," said the boy, wistfully, "but I don't have much money to spend. I have to work for a living." "He little thinks that I am worse off than he," thought Dean. "He has a home, while I am over a thousand miles from mine, and with only five cents in my pocket." "It won't cost you anything to come in," he said in a friendly manner. "I shall be at the door, and I will let you in free." "Will you, really?" queried the boy, overjoyed.