Guitar tuveer....

Last Sunday, the day before his birthday, the son of a friend came to visit. The friend came too, as the wean is only four.

Somewhere Mrs Graph managed to find a suitably-sized guitar that had been bought for Steppy II and forgotten about. Covered in dust, un-tuned and short of a string it was, but the wean immediately loved it, what with him being the son of a very musical mother.

Although he is left-handed and the guitar is not, that didn't stop him thrashing at the strings in as tuneless a manner as one might possibly imagine.

Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink.

Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink.

Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink.

Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink.

Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink.

Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink.

After about twenty minutes - to be frank - the frink got a bit much. So, thinks I, a shrewd approach will stop the strum.

"Young 'un", says I, " I hear you're a very good singer".

Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink.

"I'm a very good guitarist too. Listen".

Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink.

"Oh, yes. Well, I can hear that you are; but what about the singing? Why don't you sing something for me?"

Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink.

"I'm playing this, though".

Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink.

"Well, that's true. But I'd like to hear your very good singing. What's your favourite song"?

"Without pause or glance up at me he said, "This one".

Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink.

Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink. Frink.