"Yes," I answered, "and I see what will come of it. Carnat is old and some one might have a chance for his custom; but his son wants it, and will get it because he is rich and has influence in the neighborhood; while you, José, have neither money to buy your bagpipe nor a master to teach you, nor friends who like your music to push you on." "That is true," replied Joseph, sadly; "I have nothing but my idea, my reed, and--_her_." So saying he motioned towards Brulette, who took his hand affectionately as she answered:-- "José, I believe in what you have in your head, but I can't feel certain that you will ever get it out. To will and to do are not the same thing; to dream music and play the flute differ widely. I know what you have in your ears, in your brain, in your heart,--the music of the good God; for I saw it in your eyes when I was a little thing and you took me on your knee and said, in a weird kind of way, 'Listen, and don't make a noise, and try to remember what you hear.' Then I did listen faithfully, and all I heard was the wind talking in the trees, or the brook murmuring along the pebbles; but you, you heard something else, and you were so certain of it that I was, too, for sympathy. Well, my lad, keep the music that is so sweet and dear in your secret heart, but don't try to make yourself a piper by profession; for if you do, one of two things will happen. Either you will never make your bagpipes say what the wind and the brook whisper in your ear, or you will become such a fine and delicate musician that all the petty pipers in the countryside will pick a quarrel with you and prevent you from getting custom. They will wish you ill and do you harm, for that's their way to prevent others from sharing their profits and their fame. There are a dozen here and in the neighborhood who can't agree together, but who will join and support each other in keeping out a new hand. Your mother, who hears them talk on Sundays,--for they are thirsty folk and accustomed to drink late at night after the dances,--is very unhappy to think you want to join such a set of people. They are rough and ill-behaved, and always foremost in quarrels and fights. The habit of being at all festivals and idle resorts makes them drunkards and spendthrifts. In short, they are a tribe unlike any of the people belonging to you, among whom, she thinks, you will go to the bad. As for me, I think they are jealous and revengeful, and would try to crush your spirit, and perhaps your body, too. And so, José, I do ask you to at least put off your plan and lay aside your wishes, and even to give them up altogether, if it is not asking too much of your friendship for me, and for your mother and Tiennet." As I supported Brulette's arguments, which seemed to me sound, Joseph was in despair; but presently he took courage and said:--