So again he went down the long flights of stairs and down the street until he came to a good corner where traffic was heavy.

There, with the mood upon him which had fired him in the attic, he played again the wild melody.

A few people hesitated as they passed, but only one stopped.  This was an old woman, bent and wrinkled, who helped herself along with a cane.  She stopped and looked him squarely in the eye and the little old man felt he should recognize her, but he could not remember where he had seen her before, nor was he sure that he had ever looked upon her until now.

At any rate, the faint memory inspired him and, raising his violin, he played a beautiful lullaby.

Before he had finished the old woman leaned over and dropped something into his little tin cup.

It sounded as loud as a silver dollar would have sounded.

“The dear old generous soul!” the old man thought as he continued playing.

He played for hours, but the old woman was the only one who stopped.  “I will at least have enough to get Cynthia some warm food!” he said, thinking of what the old lady had dropped into his tin cup.

But when he looked, what was his dismay to see only a large iron ring!

Again he climbed the stairs to the attic but he felt too weary to say a thing and his sister knew that he had met with disappointment.  He tossed the iron ring to her lap and went over to the bed and threw himself upon it.

“This is the end!” he said, and told her about the iron ring.

“The old woman seemed interested in my playing!” he said, “And perhaps she gave all she could give!”

“Let us not be downhearted, Brother!” said the sister.  “Surely tomorrow you will find someone who will reward your talent!”

The little old man was quiet for a long time and then he arose and again drew his bow across the violin strings.  The old lady sat very still and dreamed, for her brother was playing one of their childhood songs.

As she lost herself in reverie, she turned the iron ring around her finger and saw upon its surface, as she turned it, the faces of her playmates of long ago.

And as the brother swept from one melody to another, she saw the iron ring change color and grow larger and larger.

[Illustration]

And, as she turned it, she saw the figures of her childhood playmates turn before her upon her lap, and they joined their voices with the silvery notes of the violin’s long ago songs until the attic was filled with the melody and the figures danced from her lap and, taking her by the hand, circled in the center of the attic room laughing and singing.