seen anything like it. In a moment school was deserted, and round Venik and Krista gathered an audience which was composed of all the children in the village. Then Krista began to sing, Venik accompanying her on his violin, and the school-children were almost beside themselves. When it was rumoured among them that the musicians were orphans, gifts rained upon them from all sides. Kreuzers, all kinds of sweetmeats and sugar-plums which the children had with them for school. Venik soon had his hand full of kreuzers, and eatables and dainties filled Krista’s apron.
This happy beginning filled them with hope and courage. As the children were now obliged to go into school, they made a compact with Venik and Krista to meet them again as soon as school was over. And who would have thought it? these young rascals marched out of school to the sound of music, as proud as the gay fellows who swagger home from the ale-house on festival or gala days, to the accompaniment of fife and tabor.
Venik and Krista went thus from house to house everywhere playing and singing some piece. Everywhere the school-children trooped after them, and they seemed to have brought back spring with them into the village, and surprising it was to see how many gifts they collected at the various homesteads.
Then they also played and sang pathetic songs. Krista sang “The Orphaned Child”, Venik accompanied the song on his violin, and when the village children again mentioned to their parents that the musicians themselves were orphans, tears started from every eye—young and old wept aloud, just as though some one had been dead—such were the laments they made. We have already seen how Venik played this piece at his father’s funeral; now to his playing was superadded Krista’s singing, and she in no wise lagged behind her companion. Those around who listened were not orphans; and yet no single heart was unimpressed. The children of the village felt as though they had lost a mother; the mothers felt as though they were already laid in the grave, and their children were covering them with pine-needles.
The effect which the piece produced was almost terrible. The people knew the song, but never in all their lives had they heard it sound as it did then. They seemed to be hearing it for the first time; they seemed to hear in it tones completely new; no one had a suspicion that it contained a fund of pathos such as no one could resist. In the tones of our musicians that song was heard in all its grandeur, aye, in majesty, and every heart was rent.
