, and
I would have sold it before, if I hadn't hated to part with it. My
violin is all I have and when I'm sad, I find a spot where I can be
alone and play to myself. Then I see all sorts of beautiful things in
the sky, more beautiful than in a dream."

"Why don't you play your violin in the streets?"

"I did, but I didn't get anything."

How well I knew what it was to play and not get a coin.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

I don't know why, but on the spur of the moment, I put up a ridiculous
bluff.

"I'm the boss of a company," I said proudly.

It was true, but the truth was very near a falsehood. My "company" only
consisted of Capi.

"Oh, will you...." began Mattia.

"What?"

"Take me in your company?"

Not wishing to deceive him, I smiled and pointed to Capi.

"But that is all the company I have," I said.

"Well, what does that matter? I'll be another. Oh, please don't leave
me; I shall die of hunger!"

Die of hunger! His words seemed to strike my very heart. I knew what it
would be to die of hunger.

"I can play the violin, and I can dislocate," said Mattia breathlessly.
"I can dance on the tight rope, I can sing, I'll do anything you like.
I'll be your servant; I'll obey you. I don't ask for money; food only.
And if I do badly, you can beat me, that is understood. All that I ask
is, that you won't strike me on the head; that also must be understood,
because my head is very sore since Garofoli beat me so much on it."

I felt like crying, to hear poor little Mattia speak so. How could I
refuse to take him with me. Die of hunger! But with me there was also a
chance that he might die of hunger. I told him so, but he would not
listen to me.

"No, no," he said; "when there are two, one doesn't starve, because one
helps the other. The one who has it gives to the one who hasn't."

I hesitated no longer. As I had some I must help him.

"Well, then, it's understood," I said.

Instantly he took my hand and actually kissed it in gratitude.

"Come with me," I said; "not as a servant, Mattia, but as my chum."

Shouldering my harp, I gave the signal:

"Forward, march!"

At the end of a quarter of an hour, we had left Paris behind.

I left Paris by this route because I wanted to see Mother Barberin. How
many times I had wanted to write to her and tell her that I thought of
her, and that I loved her with all my heart, but the horrible fear of
Barberin restrained me. If Barberin found me by means