living by
means of music. As long as my money lasted, I practised and studied the
works of the great masters, especially the old ones, copying all of the
music. But when the last penny had been spent, I made ready to turn my
knowledge to account. I made a beginning in private circles, a gathering
at the house of my landlady furnishing the first opportunity. But as the
compositions I rendered didn't meet with approval, I visited the
courtyards of houses, believing that among so many tenants there must be
a few who value serious music. Finally, I even stood on public
promenades, where I really had the satisfaction of having persons stop
and listen, question me and pass on, not without a display of sympathy.
The fact that they left was the very object of my playing, and then I
saw that famous artists, whom I didn't flatter myself I equaled,
accepted money for their performances, sometimes very large sums. In
this way I have managed to make a scanty, but honest, living to this
day.

"After many years another piece of good fortune was granted to me.
Barbara returned. Her husband had prospered and acquired a butcher shop
in one of the suburbs. She was the mother of two children, the elder
being called James, like myself. My profession and the remembrance of
old times didn't permit me to intrude; but at last they sent for me to
give the elder boy lessons on the violin. He hasn't much talent to be
sure, and can play only on Sundays, since his father needs him in his
business during the week. But Barbara's song, which I have taught him,
goes very well, and when we practise and play in this way, the mother
sometimes joins in with her voice. She has, to be sure, changed greatly
in these many years; she has grown stout, and no longer cares much for
music; but the melody still sounds as sweet as of old."

With these words the old man took up his violin and began to play the
song, and kept on playing and playing without paying any further
attention to me. At last I had enough. I rose, laid a few pieces of
silver upon the table near me, and departed, while the old man continued
fiddling eagerly.

Soon after this incident I set out on a journey, from which I did not
return until the beginning of winter. New impressions had crowded out
the old, and I had almost forgotten my musician. It wasn't until the
ice broke up in the following spring and the low-lying suburbs were
flooded in consequence, that I was again reminded of him. The v