ch a simple and innocent
life? If I had a little land in a pleasant spot near the village, and a
little house, then I could really live. In the mornings I could work
diligently at my scores; all the rest of the time I could spend with my
family. I could plant trees, visit my garden, in the fall gather apples
and pears with my boys, now and then take a trip to town for an opera,
or have a friend or two with me--what delight! Well, who knows what may
happen!"

He walked up to the shop, spoke to the girl, and began to examine her
stock more closely. His mind had not quite descended from its idyllic
flight, and the clean, smooth, shining wood, with its fresh smell,
attracted him. It suddenly occurred to him that he would pick out
several articles for his wife, such as she might need or might like to
have. At his suggestion, Constanze had, a long time ago, rented a little
piece of ground outside the Kaernthner Thor, and had raised a few
vegetables; so now it seemed quite fitting to invest in a long rake and
a small rake and a spade. Then, as he looked further, he did honor to
his principles of economy by denying himself, with an effort and after
some deliberation, a most tempting churn. To make up for this, however,
he chose a deep dish with a cover and a prettily carved handle; for it
seemed a most useful article. It was made of narrow strips of wood,
light and dark, and was carefully varnished. There was also a
particularly fine choice of spoons, bread-boards, and plates of all
sizes, and a salt-box of simple construction to hang on the wall.

At last he spied a stout stick, which had a handle covered with leather
and studded with brass nails. As the strange customer seemed somewhat
undecided about this also, the girl remarked with a smile that that was
hardly a suitable stick for a gentleman to carry. "You are right,
child," he answered. "I think I have seen butchers carry such sticks.
No, I will not have it. But all the other things which we have laid out
you may bring to me today or tomorrow." And he gave his name and
address. Then he went back to the table to finish his beer. Only one of
his former companions was sitting there, a master-tinker.

"The girl there has had a good day for once," he remarked. "Her uncle
gives her a commission on all that she sells."

Mozart was now more pleased with his purchase than ever. But his
interest was to become still greater. For, in a moment, as the girl
passed near, the tinker