t to which will cause a start
of dismay in a searcher after the beautiful, when, in an otherwise
perfectly preserved specimen of art by one of the giants of old, his
eye alights upon that sharply defined circular hole, cut with no
uncertainty of purpose, but with a ruinous intent, for it is business
with the boring party to consume the whole, if possible, at its leisure
and in quietude. This last is an important item in the consideration
of the circumstances under which the "gem of art, old master, Cremona,
real Strad," or whatever title the wooden structure may have been
sailing under. Those who have suffered much from the Italian
fiddle-hunting mania--a condition mostly chronic or quite
incurable--but who may have kept their "considerating cap" well poised
on their head, will know that the worm-eaten fiddles are often devoid
of evidence of usage, sometimes even in the absolute sense of the term.

Such a one we may suppose before us now; after lying neglected for
generations, or since the time when it was bought by one of our
periwigged ancestors from the maker, perhaps after a little haggling
about the price, which most likely was one hundredth part of its
commercial value at present. It was placed many years since in its
present comfortable case, after being taken out of the old ragged
leather covered one, with the brass nails along its side. Tradition
has it that in long bye-gone days it used to hang suspended from a nail
in the oak panelling of the "old house at home," but that during a more
recent generation and less musical one, it was placed aside in the old
case, as being somewhat interesting from having been brought over to
England from some place in Italy during the reign of James II. Later
on it was taken from this old case, and placed in one of modern
construction, and occasionally was taken out for musical people to see,
some of whom expressed their admiration for its elegant form, others
for the singular transparency of its varnish. None had come forward
with the request to hear what it had to say for itself or what its tone
was. But the day came round at last when someone more inquisitive than
usual, by nature as well as by training, having inquired as to the
possibility of seeing the antiquity, was afforded the rare opportunity
and treat of seeing a perfectly preserved Cremona, nearly as possible
untouched; the connoisseur was informed that no one had been known to
have played upon it. The case is broug