g into gold as the shadows deepened.
Showers of silver began to fall on Loch Lomond, and to quiver over the
valleys. It was an hour to fill a minstrel's heart with romantic
feeling, and it lent its witchery to the heart of the jolly harper
man.

"He wandered up the hill overlooking the lake, where dwelt the Man of
Wisdom to whose mind all things were clear. He sat down near the mouth
of the cave, partook of his evening meal, then, seizing his harp,
began to play.

"He played a tune of wonderful sweetness and sadness, so soft and airy
that the notes seemed to glide down the moonbeams, like the tinkling
of fairy bells in the air. The wicked owl pricked up his ears to
listen, and was so overcome that he wished he was a more respectable
bird. The little animals came out of the bushes, and formed a circle
around the jolly harper man, as though enchanted.

"The old hermit heard the strain, and came out to listen; and, because
he had clearness of vision, he knew that music of such wonderful
tenderness could be produced only by one who had great gifts of
nature, and who also had some secret longing in his heart.

"So he came up to the jolly harper man, walking with his cane, his
gray beard falling over his bosom, and his long white hair silvered in
the moonlight.

"The jolly harper man secretly expected him, or at least he hoped that
he would come out. Like the Queen of Sheba, he wished to test the
wisdom of this new Solomon, and to inquire of him if there were no way
of turning his wonderful musical genius into bags of gold.

"'Why do you wander here, my good harper?' asked the hermit, when the
last strain melted away in low, airy echoes over the lake. 'There are
neither lads to dance nor lassies to sing. This hill is my dominion,
and the dominion of a hermit is solitude.'

"'See you not Loch Lomond silvered in the moon?' said the jolly harper
man. 'Nature inspired me to touch my harp, and I love to play when the
inspiration of Nature comes upon me.'

"The answer pleased the hermit as much as the music.

"'But why is your music so sad, my good harper man; what is there that
you would have that fortune denies?'

"'Alas!' said the jolly harper man, 'I am very poor. My harpings all
die in the air, and leave me but a scanty purse, poor clothing, and no
roof over my head. You are a man of wisdom, to whom all things are
clear. Point out to me the way to fortune, my wise hermit. I have a
good liberal heart; you could not