s.

When the first waltz was ended, it was easy to see how good music
loosens the limbs. The peasant lads, who had before been restlessly
shuffling about on the benches, with their pipes in their mouths and
their legs stretched out stiffly in front of them, were positively
transformed, and, with their gay handkerchiefs hanging from the
button-holes of their coats, capered about with the lasses so that it
was a pleasure to look at them. One of them, who evidently thought
a deal of himself, fumbled in his waistcoat-pocket for a long while,
that the others might see him, and finally brought out a little silver
coin, which he tried to put into my hand. It irritated me, although I
had not a stiver in my pocket. I told him to keep his pennies, I was
playing only for joy, because I was glad to be among people once more.
Soon afterward, however, a pretty girl came up to me with a great
tankard of wine. "Musicians are thirsty folk," she said, with a laugh
that displayed her pearls of teeth gleaming so temptingly between her
red lips that I should have liked to kiss her then and there. She put
the tankard to her charming mouth, and her eyes sparkled at me over
its rim; she then handed it to me; I drained it to the bottom, and
played afresh, till all were spinning merrily about me once more.

By and by the old peasants finished their game, and the young people
grew tired and separated, so that gradually all was quiet and deserted
in front of the inn. The girl who had brought me the wine also walked
toward the village, but she went very slowly, and looked around from
time to time as if she had forgotten something. At last she stopped
and seemed to search for it on the ground, but as she stooped I saw
her glance toward me from under her arm. I had learned polite manners
at the castle, so I sprang toward her and said, "Have you lost
anything, my pretty ma'amselle?" She blushed crimson. "Ah, no," she
said; "it was only a rose; will you have it?" I thanked her, and stuck
the rose in my button-hole. She looked very kindly at me, and said,
"You play beautifully." "Yes," I replied, "it is a gift from God."
"Musicians are very rare in the country about here," she began again,
then stammered, and cast down her eyes. "You might earn a deal of
money here. My father plays the fiddle a little, and likes to hear
about foreign countries--and my father is very rich." Then she
laughed, and said, "If you only would not waggle your head so, when
yo