While accompanying herself on the
piano, Dexie could produce such wonderful trills and quavers, with such
purity of tone, that she could almost rival the very birds themselves, and
she never failed to surprise and charm all that heard her. Wishing to
please her father, as well as convince Mr. Plaisted that her name did not
make her a "ninny," she selected some of her best pieces and sang her most
charming songs; then, after a few soft notes, she broke into a bird-song,
whistling the notes so faithfully true that Mr. Plaisted was startled as
well as delighted, and the conversation he had begun with Gussie came to an
abrupt end.
"Well, Miss Dexie, I must confess that you have surprised me," said he, as
Dexie resumed her seat at the window. "I never heard the equal of that from
the boards of any concert-room in New York. No one would object to paying
'dear for his whistle,' if that quality was purchasable. You would make a
fortune on the stage."
"I hope Dexie will never use her whistle as a money-making gift," said her
father; "but I think, myself, it is about as pretty music as one ever
hears."
"You can bet your life, Sherwood, she would create such a furore in musical
circles that she would make something besides money for you.
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