his voice they came trooping down the stairs, making so much noise that
Miss Husted rushed out of her room and asked whether the house was on
fire.

They all crowded pell-mell into Von Barwig's room. Was this the usually
calm, dignified professor? Could it really be Von Barwig who was now
almost shouting at the top of his voice, telling them to send in their
resignations from the _cafe_, that they need play no more at a wretched
twenty-five cent _table d'hote_ for their existence. He would provide
for them, he would engage them forthwith for his orchestra. By degrees
they understood, and when they did understand they made his little
outburst of enthusiasm appear almost feeble and weak-kneed compared to
the wild, unrestrained, excited, and enthusiastic yells of joy that they
let loose. They embraced each other and danced around the room. They
hugged Miss Husted. Poons even dared to kiss her, and although she
slapped his face, she joined in the Latin-Franco-Teutonic _melee_ of joy
as though she herself had been one of them. In fact, she was one of
them! Even then their happiness did not come to an end, for they ordered
a good dinner for themselves at Galazatti's.

"To hell with the _cafe_," said Fico as he wrote to his employer, the
proprietor of the restaurant, saying they did not intend to play that
night, and could never come again.

"_Table d'hote_, nothing! Not for me, never again," said Pinac as he
indited his resignation. "A bas le _cafe_!"

"I don't trouble to write at all," said Poons in German, "I simply don't
go."

Presently the dinner came, and what a dinner it was. The (California)
wine flowed like water, and this was true literally, for more than once
Von Barwig was compelled to put water in the demijohn to make it last
out. They all talked at once, and everybody ate, drank and made merry.
Miss Husted sang a song!

After the rattle and banging of plates, knives and forks had subsided and
the coffee had been brought in, Von Barwig was called upon to make a
speech. Somehow or other his mind reverted to the last speech he had
made, so many, many years ago, when he had accepted the conductorship of
the Leipsic Philharmonic Orchestra. It seemed strange to him now, nearly
twenty years later, that he should be called upon to speak on an almost
similar occasion. Then, too, there had been a banquet. He made a few
remarks appropriate to the occasion and finally drank a toast to the
standard of