peak. His lips
quivered, and kneeling down by the lad's bedside he wept scalding hot
tears of agony, for he felt rather than knew that the boy was dying.
It appeared from the mother's story that when Josef had reached home
that night he had been in too excited a state to sleep. All night he
moaned and tossed--the next morning he was delirious. The prospect of
deliverance from his life of drudgery had been too much for him and had
resulted in brain fever. The doctor said he had a bad cold, then
finally announced that tubercular complications had set in, and as
nearly as Von Barwig could find out the boy was now rapidly wasting
away with the dreaded white disease. Von Barwig looked around him
helplessly; the light was bad, the air rank poison and the noise and
commotion distracting.

"What hope could there be for his recovery?" thought Von Barwig, and he
then and there resolved on a plan of action. Before he left the house
he had given the father all the money he had and secured a room with
plenty of light and air and a nurse for the boy. His efforts were
crowned with success. In a few weeks little Josef was gently nursed
back to life, and at the first signs of returning health Von Barwig saw
to it that he was sent South. "His only chance," the doctor had said.
It was Von Barwig who gave him that chance, but in order to do so he
parted with his last remaining bit of valuable jewelry.

* * * * * *

It was some time before Von Barwig recovered from the effects of
witnessing the sufferings of his pupil. When Jenny asked him about
Josef Branski he smiled sadly and shook his head.

"The doctor says it may be years before he can touch an instrument
again. Poor Josef--his little frame completely went to pieces under
the burning fire of his genius; if any one was ever born out of harmony
with his surroundings, he was. He might have become a great artist,"
added Von Barwig thoughtfully and then he sighed. It was a great
struggle for him to send the money to keep the little chap alive down
South, but he made the sacrifice without a murmur. If only the boy
recovered, it would be sufficient reward for all his work. But it was
not to be, for a few weeks later they brought him the news that his
little pupil had died peacefully, without pain. Von Barwig said
nothing--his mouth tightened a little and he smiled, a sad, far-away
smile. Miss Husted tried to cheer him up. She had learned f