"Teach me your song," said Mattia; "we'll sing it together, and I'll soon be able to accompany you on the violin. That'll be pretty."
Certainly, that would be pretty, and the "distinguished audience" would have a heart of stone if they were not generous in their offerings.
At the first village that we came to we had to pass before a large farm gate; looking in we saw a crowd of people dressed up in their best; some of them carried bouquets tied with satin streamers. It was a wedding. I thought that perhaps these people might like a little music and dance, so I went into the farmyard and suggested it to the first person that I met. This was a big, good-natured looking man with a red face; he wore a tall white collar and a Prince Albert coat. He did not reply to my question, but turning to the guests, he put his two fingers in his mouth and gave such a shrill whistle that it frightened Capi.
"Say, you all," he cried, "what about a little music; the musicians have arrived."
"Oh, music! music!" came the chorus.
"Take your places for the quadrilles!"
The dancers soon gathered in the middle of the yard. Mattia and I took our places up in a wagon.
"Can you play the quadrilles?" I whispered anxiously.
"Yes."
He struck a few notes on his violin. By luck I knew the air. We were saved. Although Mattia
