Page 11 - A Little Bush Maid

seven she could strum on the old piano in a way very satisfying to herself
and awe-inspiring to the admiring nurse. Her talent increased yearly, and at

ten she could play anything she heard--from ear, for she had never been
taught a note of music. Tt was, indeed, her growing capabilities in this

respect that forced upon her father the need for proper tuition for the child.
However, a stopgap was found in the person of the book-keeper, a young
Englishman, who knew more of music than accounts. He readily undertook

Norah’s instruction, and the lessons bore moderately good effect--the
moderation being due to a not unnatural disinclination on the pupil’s part to

walk where she had been accustomed to run, and to a fixed loathing to
practice. As the latter necessary, if uninteresting, pursuit was left entirely to
her own discretion--for no one ever dreamed of ordering Norah to the

piano--it is small wonder if it suffered beside the superior attractions of
riding Bobs, rat trapping, "shinning up" trees, fishing in the lagoon and

generally disporting herself as a maiden may whom conventional
restrictions have never trammelled.

Tt follows that the music lessons, twice a week, were times of woe for Mr.
Groom, the teacher. He was an earnest young man, with a sincere desire for

his pupil’s improvement, and it was certainly disheartening to find on
Friday that the words of Tuesday had apparently gone in at one ear and out
at the other simultaneously. Sometimes he would remonstrate.

"You haven’t got on with that piece a bit!"

"What’s the good?" the pupil would remark, twisting round on the music
stool; "T can play nearly all of it from ear!"

"That’s not the same"--severely--"that’s only frivolling. T’m not here to teach

you to strum."

"No" Norah would agree abstractedly. "Mr. Groom, you know that poley

bullock down in the far end paddock-- "

"No, T don’t," severely. "This is a music lesson, Norah; you’re not after
cattle now!"