he looked hot and tired. It was purely a labour of
love, for the castle was nearly complete, but the idea of keeping the
sea out of it as long as possible had taken her fancy. About half-way
she was forced to sit down and rest, and as she did so she caught sight
of Thomas calmly smoking under the shadow of a great boulder.

(_Continued on page 38._)

[Illustration: "Alan had heard every word."]

[Illustration: "He placed the 'drum' on a chair, and practised
diligently."]

HAYDN'S DRUM.

'What is to be done? Nothing could be more inconvenient. Easter-time,
and so much new music to be played!'

Master Frank Haydn, Master of the Orchestra at the parish church of
Hamburg, in Southern Germany, all but tore his brown wig in his despair,
at hearing of the death of the man who played the kettle-drum in his
orchestra.

'I know of no one to take his place at such short notice,' he went on,
though there were only his wife and little nephew to hear him.

The nephew, Joseph Haydn by name, had only lately come into the
choir-master's family. He was a child of six years old, but had already
shown such wonderful musical genius, that his parents had decided to
place him with his uncle, where he would have great opportunities for
musical study.

The little fellow now looked up from an old music book, for he could
read music perfectly, and said timidly, 'I think I could manage the
kettle-drum, uncle, if you would just show me a little how it should be
played.'

'You, Joseph?' said the choir-master in surprise, as he looked down at
the serious little face. 'It is not a violin, you know; if it were you
could manage well enough, but you know nothing of kettle-drums.'

'Let me try, Uncle!' pleaded Joseph. Before long he had his wish, and
both were in the big room over the church porch where the practices
always took place.

Joseph's little fingers seemed to hold the drum-sticks as if to the
manner born, and after a short rehearsal of the music to be played on
the festival, the old man felt an immense load lifted off his shoulders.

'Capital! capital!' he exclaimed. 'I shall not miss poor Schmidt now;
your touch is crisper than his!'

Then the door of the room was locked, and uncle and nephew returned
home.

Joseph, however, as Easter drew near, became very anxious, and longed
for an opportunity for further practice on the drum. His fingers might
not be skilful enough: he could be sure of the notes without practice,