Second Excercise It was an early Saturday afternoon in July and Harvard square was full of tourists, students, beggars and artists. In some cases, the two last ones were combined in one person. It smelled with coffee, barbecue and flowers. Countless voices laughed and talked. A guy in a cowboy hat played and sang country music. In another corner someone hauntingly beautifully played sax. A bit away from the main action, there was quite a crowd that gathered around something, and people that were passing by, stopped to watch. The center of their attention produced music too, well-known hits with guitar and violin. The musician playing the guitar was a man in his late thirties in old worn blue jeans and a simple plaid red shirt. The man had short, blond-reddish hair starting to thin out. He played and sang, and tapped with his right foot along the rhythm. A slightly worried look on his face and his smile a bit tight, he was looking around the crowd of spectators meeting their eyes and then looking back at his partner playing violin next to him. The violinist was a boy of 10-12 years old, reddish-blond like the man, blue eyed and smily. He had a music sheet in front of him but he barely looked at it. He mostly surveyed spectators without any shyness or self-consciousness. He looked like he enjoyed his violin and he was certainly an excellent musician, playing with no mistakes. He moved his hands and shoulders in the places where an accent was needed, and tapped with his foot in others, along with the man beside him. The joy and pleasure that radiated from that young musician, performing for money on the streets, effulged from his eyes. Among the spectators, were several boys and girls of different ages, watching with expressions of awe and surprise, barely breathing.