r Von Barwig to pay expenses
became greater and greater. Poons saw that it was an effort and
determined to sink his pride, so he begged Pinac to help him get
something for him to do; anything, anywhere. It was a great day for
Poons when Fico announced to him that the proprietor of the _cafe_
where they played had given them permission to bring him and his 'cello
on trial for a week at a salary of six dollars and his supper, at the
end of the night concert. Jenny was quite proud. "I told you that Mr.
Poons would succeed," she said joyfully to her aunt.

"Wait," replied Miss Husted, "he's not out of the woods yet."

But she was mistaken, for he held on to his engagement and at the end
of the week was taken on permanently. This was most fortunate, for by
this time Von Barwig had completely denuded his room of all superfluous
articles of value; even the fine old prints that had adorned his
bedroom went for a mere trifle. A silver baton that had been given him
by the director of the Gewandhaus was the last thing to go. It was
quite a wrench to part with it, for it was the last link between Von
Barwig and his musical past.

In the meantime he had lowered his prices for music lessons in the
hopes of increasing the number of his pupils, and at Miss Husted's
suggestion even had a new sign made with large letters in gold-leaf.
But pupils did not come, and Von Barwig felt that he was indeed doomed
to failure. Everything he touched turned to dross; his one pupil of
promise had died; there was no future, no outlook, no hope, and yet he
did not give up, nor did he speak of his troubles to his friends. How
he kept Miss Husted paid up she never knew, and yet, punctually every
week, he handed to her the sum of money due her. When he suggested
taking a smaller room upstairs she offered to lower the price of the
room he was occupying. This sacrifice the old man would not accept; so
he remained where he was, always hoping, hoping, hoping. He did not
complain directly to her, but she knew that he was taking in little or
no money. She blamed him for not being more exacting with those who
were indebted to him, and as a matter of fact had he been able to
collect all that was owing to him he would have been in far better
circumstances; but no one seemed to think he needed money--he had such
a prosperous air.

"What can I do?" said Von Barwig apologetically, when she told him to
sue his delinquent pupils. "I tell them their cou