quite fitting to invest in a long rake and a small rake and a spade.  Then, as he looked further, he did honor to his principles of economy by denying himself, with an effort and after some deliberation, a most tempting churn.  To make up for this, however, he chose a deep dish with a cover and a prettily carved handle; for it seemed a most useful article.  It was made of narrow strips of wood, light and dark, and was carefully varnished.  There was also a particularly fine choice of spoons, bread-boards, and plates of all sizes, and a salt-box of simple construction to hang on the wall.

At last he spied a stout stick, which had a handle covered with leather and studded with brass nails.  As the strange customer seemed somewhat undecided about this also, the girl remarked with a smile that that was hardly a suitable stick for a gentleman to carry.  “You are right, child,” he answered.  “I think I have seen butchers carry such sticks.  No, I will not have it.  But all the other things which we have laid out you may bring to me today or tomorrow.”  And he gave his name and address.  Then he went back to the table to finish his beer.  Only one of his former companions was sitting there, a master-tinker.

“The girl there has had a good day for once,” he remarked.  “Her uncle gives her a commission on all that she sells.”

Mozart was now more pleased with his purchase than ever.  But his interest was to become still greater.  For, in a moment, as the girl passed near, the tinker called out, “Well, Crescenz, how is your friend the locksmith?  Will he soon be filing his own iron?” “Oh,” she answered without stopping, “that iron is still growing deep in the mountain.”

“She is a good goose,” said the tinsmith.  “For a long time she kept house for her stepfather, and took care of him when he was ill; but after he died it came out that he had spent all her money.  Since that she has lived with her uncle, and she is a treasure, in the shop, in the inn, and with the children.  There is a fine young apprentice who would have liked to marry her long ago, but there is a hitch somewhere.”

“How so?  Has he nothing to live on?”

“They both have saved a little, but not enough.  Now comes word of a good situation and a part of a house in Ghent.  Her uncle could easily lend them the little money that they need, but of course he will not let her go.  He has good friends in the council and in the union, and the young fellow is meeting with all sorts of difficulties.”

“The wretches!” cried Mozart, so loud that the other looked around anxiously, fearing that they might have been overheard.  “And is there no one who could speak the right word or show those fellows a fist?  The villains!  We will get the best of them yet.”

The tinker was on thorns.  He tried, clumsily enough, to moderate his statements, and almost contradicted himself.  But Mozart would not listen.  “Shame on you, how you chatter!  That’s just the way with all of you as soon as you have to answer for anything!” And with that he turned on his heel and left the astonished tinker.  He hastened to the girl, who was busy with new guests:  “Come early tomorrow, and give my respects to your good friend.  I hope that your affairs will prosper.”  She was too busy and too much surprised to thank him.