In a joyful home, on a beautiful shelf, there sat a little music box whose name was Melody. Though she longed to hear herself play, none of the children who lived in the house ever thought of touching her spring. She was seldom even wound up, and that made Melody very sorrowful; for she could do nothing but sing, and she wished so much to sing her lovely songs to the happy children who walked about and laughed, and genuinely blessed the day. Can’t you hear her say, “Play with me?” to the oldest of the children; but he was too busy and grown up, and he only smiled and patted her etching, rich-brown lid as he passed.
“Oh dear! oh dear!” thought Melody, “when will my spring be touched again?” for she had waited four long days and nights, and nobody seemed to notice how lonely she was, except an old china shepherdess who sat facing her on a shelf all day long.
The fifth day came, and there was a merry little visitor all day in the house – a jolly, rosy-cheeked boy, with bright, laughing eyes. He played hide and seek with the other children, requiring them to remember so many, many things that the little ones were obliged to sit down quietly afterwards and recover their breath.
“Oh dear! oh dear! what can a little music box do when all the children are out of breath?” asked Melody, quite ready to cry. Just then the door opened. It was the boy with the bright, laughing eyes. He came at once to the shelf, showed her a picture book, listened whilst she repeated all her songs, and at last said:
“I have nothing else with me. I cannot go away into the fields, because then certain something will happen. If you like to be my friend and do my best, I will play with you and be very happy together.”
Melody knew what the boy meant when he said, “When certain something will happen.” It was because he was afraid of getting sick again, and she thought he was a brave boy, and she answered at once, in harmony and tune:
“I will play with you and be merry together.”
Then all became so still around them, for the brother and sister, and the other little children, were also fatigued, and sat down to listen. One after another they all dozed, and last of all an old pet dog, who woke up for a minute and thought he would put his little brother’s finger, which was close to his nose, in his mouth just for fun, as he used to do when he was a tiny puppy; but he immediately afterwards dozed too. Melody saw the whole, whole thing that happened in the room, and therefore she thought it had become his turn, so she played on and on and on, and nobody came to her aid. And when at last everybody began to wake up, there was a laugh and a cry, there was joy and shouting, there was glee. The happy children danced around their pet dog, the jolly, rosy-cheeked boy kissed his pets, and made the littlest a company of say, by throwing her the flower he gathered when they were last tying tulled up in the woods.
Oh, what marvelous joy! If the boy with the bright, laughing eyes had been contented in working a little on account of certain someone quietly. And she, she carried in her joyful theme, reconciliation the whole happy house so much joy, that Melody now never knew a single sad hour. Spy and sister, chunky broad with laughing eyes, the box and bleated speaking, accompanied with gestures that deaf most children. What she did is not to be questioned, it must have been very interesting and funny, and that the dance must either have been a merry jigs, or the jolly children really went round suddenly “by the daisies.” Who knows? But the children all shouted out themselves:
“Indeed!” said the old Dutch clock, “What a difference!”
And there you have the whole of the story, and that is how the little music box’s gratitude recounted; and now you too know, you know so much more than the little gift card.