Uncle Philip dove into his deep pockets with both hands, and soon the wonderful, coveted object really came to light.  And how much bigger and finer it was than Toneli’s little instrument.  Such a one must be able to sound the loveliest tones.  Lippo, holding his treasure in his hand, could hardly believe it to be his own property, but Uncle Philip reassured him, saying:  “Come, Lippo, take it, the harmonica is meant for you.”

There were presents for all the children in the depths of the pockets, and one child after another ran away to show his gift to his mother.  Lippo saw and heard nothing else just then.  In expectation of the melodies which would well up he blew with all his might quite horrible, ear-shattering sounds.

“Lippo, you must learn how to play a little first.  Everything has to be learned.  Give it to me,” said Uncle Philip; “you see you must do this way.”  Setting the instrument to his lips and pushing it up and down, he played the merriest tunes.  Lippo looked up in speechless admiration at his god-father.  He was tremendously impressed that Uncle Philip could do everything, even blow a harmonica, which generally only boys were able to do.  How fine it sounded!  He was sure that nobody else could bring forth such beautiful melodies.

Lippo was interrupted by his brothers and sisters, who were noisily announcing supper.  So Uncle Philip was taken in their midst into the dining-room, and he might have been likened to a prisoner-of-war captured by the victors amidst shouts of triumph.

The mother had purposely ordered supper a little early, and she noticed that her brother was satisfied with the arrangement.  If his intention had been to shorten the time he could have with the children, he had no intention of cheating them of amusement, and he told them so many entertaining things that they felt they had never had a better time with him.  At last, however, it was quiet in the living-room.  Uncle Philip was sitting there alone, waiting for his sister, who had gone upstairs with the children.

“First of all, Philip,” she said on her return, as she settled down beside him, “what shall be done with Bruno?  I am sure you told Mr. Knippel not to engage board and lodging for him.”

“On the contrary, I gave him full power to do so,” the brother replied.  “Mr. Knippel gave me the impression that you would agree to it and would be very grateful if he took the matter in hand, so I thought that that would be the simplest way out.  It won’t be so very terrible if the boys live together.  Don’t always imagine the worst.  But I must tell you something else.”

Uncle Philip seemed to be rather glad to pass quickly over the hard problem.  He guessed in fact that his communication would cause his sister great consternation.  And he had guessed rightly.  In her fright over his first words she had not even heard the last.