y soft pianissimo, with an
excessively long stroke of the bow.

"'You see, do you not, little son?' cried the Baron. 'You can play all
kinds of "passages," jumps, and new-fangled nonsense of that sort, but
you can't properly sustain a note as it ought to be done.'

"He took the instrument from my hands, and laid the bow across the
strings, near the bridge--and the simple truth is, that words
completely fail me to describe to you what then came to pass.

"Laying that trembling bow of his close to the bridge, he went sliding
with it up and down on the strings, as it quivered in his hands,
jarringly, whistlingly, squeakingly, mewingly; the tone he produced was
to be likened to that of some old woman, with spectacles on nose,
vainly attempting to hit the tune of a hymn.

"And all the time he raised enraptured eyes to heaven, like a man
lost in the most celestial blissfulness; and when at length he left
off scraping with his bow up and down between the bridge and the
finger-board, and laid the violin down, his eyes were shining, and he
said, in deep emotion: 'That is tone! that is tone!'

"I felt in a most extraordinary condition: although the inward impulse
to laugh was present with me, it was killed by the aspect of that
venerable man, glorified by his inspiration. At the same time the whole
affair had a most eery effect upon me, and I felt very much affected by
it, and could not utter a syllable.

"'Don't you find, little son,' asked the Baron, 'that that goes to your
heart? Had you ever any idea that such magic could be conjured out of
that little thing there, with its four simple strings? Well, well! take
a glass of wine, little son.' He poured me out a glass of Madeira. I
had to drink it, and also to take some of the pastry and cakes which
were upon the table. Just then the clock struck one.

"'This will have to do for to-day,' said the Baron. 'Go, go, little
son! Here, here! put that in your pocket.'

"And he placed in my hand a little paper packet, in which I found a
beautiful, shining ducat.

"In my amazement I ran to the concert-meister and told him all that had
happened. He, however, laughed aloud, and said: 'Now you know all about
our Baron and his violin lessons. He looks upon you as a mere beginner,
so that you only get a ducat per lesson; but as the mastership, in his
opinion, increases, so does the pay. He gives me a Louis, and I think
Durand gets a couple of ducats.'

"I could not help expressing