n German fancies, overlaid with a feminine love of superfluous
ornament. The Teutonic fondness for colour ran riot in everything, and
purples, reds, and yellows were closely intermingled. The exquisite
neatness of the place was its redeeming feature.

Apparently, there were two other rooms on the same floor--a combined
kitchen and dining-room was just back of the parlour, and a smaller
room opened off of it. Lynn was meditating upon Herr Kaufmann's
household arrangements, when a wonderful object upon the table in the
corner attracted his attention, and he went over to examine it.

Obviously, it had once been a section of clay drainage pipe, but in its
sublimated estate it was far removed from common uses. It had been
smeared with putty, and, while plastic, ornamented with hinges, nails,
keys, clock wheels, curtain rings, and various other things not usually
associated with drainage pipes. When dry, it had been given further
distinction by two or three coats of gold paint.

A wire hair-pin, placed conspicuously near the top of it, was rendered
so ridiculous by the gilding that Lynn laughed aloud. Then, influenced
by the sound of the scrubbing-brush close at hand, he endeavoured to
cover it with a cough. He was too late, however, for, almost
immediately, his hostess appeared in the doorway.

"Mine crazy jug," she said, with gratified pride beaming from every
feature.

"I was just looking at it," responded Lynn. "It is marvellous. Did you
make it yourself?"

"Yes, I make him mineself," she said, and then retreated, blushing with
innocent pleasure.

Not knowing what else to do, he went back to his chair and sat down
again, carefully avoiding the purple tidy embroidered with pink roses.
Outside, the street was deserted. He wondered what type of a man it was
who could live in the same house with a "crazy jug" and play as Herr
Kaufmann played, only last night. Then he reflected that the room had
been dark, and smiled at his foolish fancy.

A square piano took up one whole side of the room, and there were two
violins upon it. Unthinkingly, Lynn investigated. The first one was a
good instrument of modern make, and the other--he caught his breath as
he took it out of its case. The thin, fine shell was the beautiful body
of a Cremona, enshrining a Cremona's still more beautiful soul.

He touched it reverently, though his hands trembled and his face was
aglow. He snapped a string with his finger and the violin answered wi