Nat 's favorite amusements were working in his garden , and sitting in the willow-tree with his violin , for that green nest was a fairy world to him , and there he loved to perch , making music like a happy bird . The lads called him `` Old Chirper , '' because he was always humming , whistling , or fiddling , and they often stopped a minute in their work or play to listen to the soft tones of the violin , which seemed to lead a little orchestra of summer sounds . The birds appeared to regard him as one of themselves , and fearlessly sat on the fence or lit among the boughs to watch him with their quick bright eyes . The robins in the apple-tree near by evidently considered him a friend , for the father bird hunted insects close beside him , and the little mother brooded as confidingly over her blue eggs as if the boy was only a new sort of blackbird who cheered her patient watch with his song . The brown brook babbled and sparkled below him , the bees haunted the clover fields on either side , friendly faces peeped at him as they passed , the old house stretched its wide wings hospitably toward him , and with a blessed sense of rest and love and happiness , Nat dreamed for hours in this nook , unconscious what healthful miracles were being wrought upon him . One listener he had who never tired , and to whom he was more than a mere schoolmate . Poor Billy 's chief delight was to lie beside the brook , watching leaves and bits of foam dance by , listening dreamily to the music in the willow-tree . He seemed to think Nat a sort of angel who sat aloft and sang , for a few baby memories still lingered in his mind and seemed to grow brighter at these times . Seeing the interest he took in Nat , Mr. Bhaer begged him to help them lift the cloud from the feeble brain by this gentle spell . Glad to do any thing to show his gratitude , Nat always smiled on Billy when he followed him about , and let him listen undisturbed to the music which seemed to speak a language he could understand . `` Help one another , '' was a favorite Plumfield motto , and Nat learned how much sweetness is added to life by trying to live up to it . Jack Ford 's peculiar pastime was buying and selling ; and he bid fair to follow in the footsteps of his uncle , a country merchant , who sold a little of every thing and made money fast . Jack had seen the sugar sanded , the molasses watered , the butter mixed with lard , and things of that kind , and labored under the delusion that it was all a proper part of the business . His stock in trade was of a different sort , but he made as much as he could out of every worm he sold , and always got the best of the bargain when he traded with the boys for string , knives , fish-hooks , or whatever the article might be . The boys who all had nicknames , called him `` Skinflint , '' but Jack did not care as long as the old tobacco-pouch in which he kept his money grew heavier and heavier . He established a sort of auction-room , and now and then sold off all the odds and ends he had collected , or helped the lads exchange things with one another . He got bats , balls , hockey-sticks , etc. , cheap , from one set of mates , furbished them up , and let them for a few cents a time to another set , often extending his business beyond the gates of Plumfield in spite of the rules . Mr. Bhaer put a stop to some of his speculations , and tried to give him a better idea of business talent than mere sharpness in overreaching his neighbors . Now and then Jack made a bad bargain , and felt worse about it than about any failure in lessons or conduct , and took his revenge on the next innocent customer who came along . His account-book was a curiosity ; and his quickness at figures quite remarkable .
Mr. Bhaer praised him for this , and tried to make his sense of honesty and honor as quick ; and , by and by , when XXXXX found that he could not get on without these virtues , he owned that his teacher was right .
Jack Nat Skinflint auction-room cents confidingly fish-hooks nook tobacco-pouch willow-tree