er seeing that it
was in tune,--put it back again.

Sir Charles Halle tells about seeing Paganini in Paris, where he used to
spend an hour every day sitting in a publisher's shop, "a striking,
awe-inspiring, ghostlike figure." Halle was introduced to him, but
conversation was difficult, for Paganini sat there taciturn, rigid,
hardly ever moving a muscle of his face. He made the young pianist play
for him frequently, indicating his desire by pointing at the piano with
his long, bony hand, without speaking. Halle was dying to hear the great
violinist play, and one day, after they had enjoyed a long silence,
Paganini rose and went to his violin case. He took the violin out, and
began to tune it carefully with his fingers, without using the bow.
Halle's agitation was becoming intolerable, for he thought that the
moment had arrived at which his desire was to be gratified. But when
Paganini had satisfied himself that his violin was all right, he
carefully put it back in the case and shut it up.

Paganini was notoriously parsimonious, and it was related that one
evening in Florence he left his hotel rather late, jumped into a coach
and ordered the man to drive him to the theatre. The distance was short,
but he felt that it would not do to keep the public waiting. He was to
play the prayer from "Moses" on one string. On arrival at the theatre he
asked the driver, "How much?" "For you," replied the Jehu, "ten francs."
"What? Ten francs? You joke," replied the virtuoso. "It is only the
price of a ticket to your concert," was the excuse. Paganini hesitated a
moment, and then handed to the man what he considered to be a fair
remuneration, saying, "I will pay you ten francs when you drive me on
one wheel."

At one time Paganini astonished the world by making to Hector Berlioz
the magnificent present of twenty thousand francs. Berlioz was at that
time almost in a state of despair. His compositions were not
appreciated, and he was at a loss to know which way to turn. He made a
final effort and gave a last concert, at which Paganini was present and
congratulated him.

Jules Janin, the celebrated critic and writer, went into ecstasies over
the affair. Paganini, he said, who had been attacked for
hard-heartedness and avarice, was present at the concert, and at the end
prostrated himself before Berlioz, and shed tears. Hope returned and
Berlioz went home in triumph, for he had satisfied one great musical
critic. The next day he recei