For this the teacher
brought out his old fiddle and tuned it. Then they began, and all
shouted at the top of their lungs,--
"Little lambkins, come down
From the bright sunny height,"
and the teacher played the accompaniment.
Rico, however, had his eyes fixed so attentively upon the fiddle, and on
the teacher's fingers as he touched the strings, that he quite forgot
the song; and at this the whole choir lost their pitch, and fell away a
half-note, and the fiddle became uncertain, and lost a half-note also;
and then the voices fell lower still, until at last nobody could have
told where they were going to all together; but the teacher tossed his
fiddle upon the table and called out angrily, "What sort of a song do
you call that? You are nothing but a lot of screamers! I should like to
know who it is who sings false and spoils the whole time."
At this a little boy spoke up,--the one who sat nearest to Rico: "I know
why it all goes wrong. It always goes that way when Rico stops singing."
The teacher himself knew that the fiddle was somewhat dependent on
Rico's leading.
"Rico, Rico! what is this that I hear?" he said, turning to the lad.
"You are generally a well-behaved boy; but inattention is a sad fault,
as you now see. One single careless scholar can easily spoil a whole
song. Now we will begin anew; and be more attentive, Rico.
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