He wrote the announcements and stuck them up all over the village. With
a few planks of wood he arranged a stage, and bravely spent his last
fifty sous to buy some candles, which he cut in half so as to double the
lights.

From the window of our room I saw him come and go, tramping back and
forth in the snow. I wondered anxiously what program he could make. I
was soon enlightened on this subject, for along came the town crier of
the village, wearing a scarlet cap, and stopped before the inn. After a
magnificent roll of his drum he read out our program.

Vitalis had made the most extravagant promises! There was to be present
a world-renowned artist--that was Capi--and a young singer who was a
marvel; the marvel was myself. But the most interesting part of the
farce was that there was no fixed price for the entertainment. We relied
upon the generosity of the audience, and the public need not pay until
after it had seen, heard, and applauded.

That seemed to me extraordinarily bold. Who was going to applaud us?
Capi certainly deserved to be celebrated, but I ... I was not at all
convinced that I was a marvel.

Although Pretty-Heart was very ill at this moment, when he heard the
drum, he tried to get up. From the noise and Capi's barks, he seemed to
guess that it was to announce our performance.

I had to force him back on his bed; then he made signs to me to give him
his general's uniform--the red coat and trousers with gold braid, and
hat with the plume. He clasped his hands and went down on his knees to
beg me. When he saw that he could get nothing from me by begging, he
tried what anger would do, then finally melted into tears. It was
evident that we should have a great deal of trouble to convince him that
he must give up all idea of playing that night. I thought it would be
better not to let him know when we started.

When Vitalis returned, he told me to get my harp ready and all the
things we required for the entertainment. Pretty-Heart, who knew what
this meant, turned to his master and commenced his entreaties again. He
could not have better expressed his desires than by the sounds he
uttered, the twisting of his face, and the turns of his body. There were
real tears on his cheeks and they were real kisses that he imprinted on
Vitalis' hand. "You want to play?" asked Vitalis, who had not been told
what happened before.

"Yes, oh, yes!" Pretty-Heart's whole person seemed to cry out. He tried
to jump to show