he heard of Racah's
presence in his kingdom he summoned the pianist.

Racah obeyed the Rajah's order. To his surprise he found him a man of
pleasing mien and address. He was dressed in clothes of English cut, and
possessed a concert piano. Racah bowed to him on entering the great Hall
of the Statues.

"Do you play Chopin?"

"No," was the curt reply. The potentate glanced at the pianist, and then
dropped his heavy eyelids. Racah had the air of a man bored to death.

"I entreat you"--the Rajah had winning accents--"play me something of
Chopin. I adore Chopin."

"Your Highness, I abominate Chopin; I abominate music. I have taken a
vow never to play again anything of that vile Polish composer. But I may
play for you instead a Brahms sonata. The great one in F minor--"

"Stop a moment! You distinctly refuse to play me a Chopin valse or
mazurka?"

"O Villainy!" Racah was thoroughly aroused; "I swear by the beard of
your silly prophet that I will not play Chopin, nor touch your piano!"

The Rajah listened with a sweet forbearing smile. Then he clapped his
hands twice--thrice. A slave entered. To him the Rajah spoke quietly,
with an amused expression, and the man bowed his head. Touching the
pianist on the shoulder he said:

"Come with me." Racah followed. The Rajah burst into loud laughter, and
going to the piano played the D flat Valse of Chopin in a facile
amateurish fashion.

Footsteps were heard; the Rajah stopped and looked up. There was bright
frank expectancy in his gaze as he listened.

Then a curtain was thrust aside. Racah staggered in, supported by the
attendant. He was white, helpless, fainting, and in his eyes were the
shadows of infinite regret.

"Do play some Chopin," exclaimed the Rajah, gaily, as he ran his fingers
over the keyboard.

The pianist groaned as the slave plucked at his arms and held them
aloft. The Rajah critically viewed the hands from which the fingertips
were missing, and then, noting the remorseful anguish in the gaze of the
other, he cried:

"Do you know, I really believe you love music despite yourself!"

HUNDING'S WIFE

I

Calcraft was very noisy in his morning humors, and the banging of
windows caused his wife to raise a curious voice.

From the breakfast-room she called, "What is the matter with you this
morning, Cal? Didn't Wagner agree with you last night? Or was it the--?"

"Yes, it was _that_," replied a surly voice.

"Have you hung your wrists out o