THE FIFTH STRING
and drew the bow across the string of joy, improvising on it. Almost instantly the birds of the forest darted hither and thither, caroling forth in gladsome strains. The devil alone was sad, and with emotion said:
"It is many, many years since I have heard that string."
Next the artist changed to the string of pity, and thoughts of the world's sorrows came over him like a pall.
"Wonderful, most wonderful!" said the mystified violinist; "with this instrument I can conquer the world!"
"Aye, more to you than the world," said the tempter, "a woman's love."
A woman's love—to the despairing suitor there was one and only one in this wide, wide world, and her words, burning their way into his heart, had made this temptation possible: "No droop-
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