him.  He repeated it several times—­all in vain.  Finally my father lost his patience, ’cachinnum’ (laughter)—­that was the word—­he roared at me in a voice of thunder.  That was the end.  Although I now knew the missing word, I had forgotten all the rest.  All attempts to bring me back on the right track were in vain.  I was obliged to rise in disgrace and when I went over as usual to kiss my father’s hand, he pushed me back, rose, bowed hastily to the audience, and went away.  ‘That shabby beggar,’ he called me; I wasn’t one at the time, but I am now.  Parents prophesy when they speak.  At the same time my father was a good man, only hot tempered and ambitious.

“From that day on he never spoke to me again.  His orders were conveyed to me by the servants.  On the very next day I was informed that my studies were at an end.  I was quite dismayed, for I realized what a blow it must have been to my father.  All day long I did nothing but weep, and between my crying spells I recited the Latin verses, in which I was now letter-perfect, together with the preceding and following ones.  I promised to make up in diligence what I lacked in talent, if I were only permitted to continue in school, but my father never revoked a decision.

“For some time I remained at home without an occupation.  At last I was placed in an accountant’s office on probation; but arithmetic had never been my forte.  An offer to enter the military service I refused with abhorrence.  Even now I cannot see a uniform without an inward shudder.  That one should protect those near and dear, even at the risk’s of one’s life, is quite proper, and I can understand it; but bloodshed and mutilation as a vocation, as an occupation—­never!” And with that he felt his arms with his hands, as if experiencing pain from wounds inflicted upon himself and others.

“Next I was employed in the chancery office as a copyist.  There I was in my element.  I had always practised penmanship with enthusiasm; and even now I know of no more agreeable pastime than joining stroke to stroke with good ink on good paper to form words or merely letters.  But musical notes are beautiful above everything, only at that time I didn’t think of music.

“I was industrious, but too conscientious.  An incorrect punctuation mark, an illegible or missing word in a first draft, even if it could be supplied from the context, would cause me many an unhappy hour.  While trying to make up my mind whether to follow the original closely or to supply missing material, the time slipped by, and I gained a reputation for being negligent, although I worked harder than any one else.  In this manner I spent several years, without receiving any salary.  When my turn for promotion came, my father voted for another candidate at the meeting of the board, and the other members voted with him out of deference.

“About this time—­well, well,” he interrupted himself, “this is turning out to be a story after all.  I shall continue the story.  About this time two events occurred, the saddest and the happiest of my life, namely my leaving home and my return to the gentle art of music, to my violin, which has remained faithful to me to this day.