occasion to take to the Fiddle doctor for an operation quite unknown
to the students of the Royal College of Surgeons, but well understood
by the members of the fraternity to which I have the honour to belong,
namely, _decapitation_. This, in the Fiddle language, means the
removal of the old neck, and the splicing of a brand-new one in its
place. It is an operation wholly unattended with the horrors of human
surgery. Again and again a time was appointed for the completion of
this delicate insertion, but in vain--it was a case of hope deferred.
The owner of the Stradivari becoming wearied with this state of
things, determined to carry off his cherished instrument in its
dismembered condition. Placing the several portions in paper, he left
the Fiddle doctor's establishment, considerably annoyed and excited.
Upon reaching his home his recent ebullition of temper had entirely
passed away, and he calmly set himself to open the parcel containing
his dissected "Strad," when, to his utter dismay, he failed to find
its scroll. The anguish he suffered may be readily conceived by the
lover of Fiddles. Away he started in search of his Fiddle's head, dead
to all around him but the sense of his loss; he demanded of every one
he met whether they had by chance picked up the head of a Fiddle. The
answers were all in the negative; and many were the looks of
astonishment caused by the strange nature of the question and the
bewildered appearance of the questioner. At length he arrived at the
house of the Fiddle doctor, whose want of punctuality had brought
about the misfortune. Here was his forlorn hope! He might possibly
have forgotten to put the scroll into the parcel. His doubts were soon
at rest; the scroll had been taken with the other parts of the
instrument. Completely overcome with sorrow and vexation, he knew not
how to endeavour to recover his loss. He ultimately decided to offer a
reward of five pounds and to await the result as contentedly as he
could.

A few hours after the dejected owner of the Violin had left the shop
of the Fiddle doctor, an old woman, the keeper of an apple stall in
the neighbourhood, entered and offered for sale a Fiddle-head. The
healer of Violins, taking it into his hands, was agreeably astonished
to recognise in it the missing headpiece, and eagerly demanded of the
seller whence she had obtained it, and what might be its price.
"Picked it up in the gutter," she answered; and two shillings was the
mod