rmer delighted,
even enraptured him, while he avoided the latter, even when harmonically
justified, as much as possible. Instead of accenting a composition in
accordance with sense and rhythm, he exaggerated and prolonged the notes
and intervals that were pleasing to his ear; he did not even hesitate to
repeat them arbitrarily, when an expression of ecstasy frequently passed
over his face. Since he disposed of the dissonances as rapidly as
possible and played the passages that were too difficult for him in a
tempo that was too slow compared with the rest of the piece, his
conscientiousness not permitting him to omit even a single note, one may
easily form an idea of the resulting confusion. After some time, even I
couldn't endure it any longer. In order to recall him to the world of
reality, I purposely dropped my hat, after I had vainly tried several
other means of attracting his attention. The old man started, his knees
shook, and he was scarcely able to hold the violin he had lowered to the
ground. I stepped up to him. "Oh, it is you, sir," he said, as if coming
to himself; "I had not counted on the fulfilment of your kind promise."
He forced me to sit down, straightened things up, laid down his violin,
looked around the room a few times in embarrassment, then suddenly took
up a plate from a table that was standing near the door and went out. I
heard him speak with the gardener's wife outside. Soon he came back
again rather abashed, concealing the plate behind his back and returning
it to its place stealthily. Evidently he had asked for some fruit to
offer me, but had not been able to obtain it.

"You live quite comfortably here," I said, in order to put an end to his
embarrassment. "Untidiness is not permitted to dwell here. It will
retreat through the door, even though at the present moment it hasn't
quite passed the threshold."

"My abode reaches only to that line," said the old man, pointing to the
chalk-line in the middle of the room. "Beyond it the two journeymen
live."

"And do these respect your boundary?"

"They don't, but I do," said he. "Only the door is common property."

"And are you not disturbed by your neighbors?"

"Hardly. They come home late at night, and even if they startle me a
little when I'm in bed, the pleasure of going to sleep again is all the
greater. But in the morning I awaken them, when I put my room in order.
Then they scold a little and go." I had been observing him in the mean