“John Norton,” said the Lad, who was sitting on a chair hidden away behind the Trapper, “John Norton,” and the Lad took hold of the sleeve of his jacket and pulled the Trapper’s head down towards him, “would you like to hear a violin to-night?”

“Like to hear a fiddle?  Lord bless ye, Lad, I guess I would like to hear a fiddle.  I never seed a time I wouldn’t give the best beaver hide in the lodge to hear the squeak of the bow on the strings.  What’s the matter with ye, Lad?” and he drew the old man’s head still closer to him, until his ear was within a few inches of his mouth.  “I love to play the violin better than I love any thing in the world, and I’ve got one of the best ones you ever heard, out there in the bow of the boat.”

“Heavens and ’arth, Lad!” ejaculated the Trapper, “Did ye say ye could play the fiddle, and that ye had a good one out there in the boat?  Lord-a-massy! how the young folks will hop.  Scoot out there and git it, boy, and Henry and me will let the folks know what ye’ve got and what ye can do.”

The Lad fairly flashed out of the room.  He was gone in an instant; and in a few minutes he had returned, bearing in his hands a bundle which he carried as carefully as a mother would carry her babe; but brief as had been his absence it had allowed sufficient time for Herbert to communicate with the master of ceremonies and for him to announce to the company present that the great lack of the occasion had fortunately and unexpectedly been supplied; for the young man who was with Mr. Herbert and John Norton not only knew how to play the violin, but actually had one in his boat, and had gone to get it, and would be back in a moment.  The announcement was received with applause.  White hands clapped, and a hundred ejaculations of wonderment sounded forth the surprise and pleasure of the eager throng.  And when the Lad came stealing in, bearing his precious burden, he was received with a positive ovation.

It was amusing to see the change which had come over the looks and actions of the company at the mention and appearance of the violin.  The faces that had shown indifference and the look of languid weariness freshened and became tense in all their lines; and on their heads again animation sat crowned.  Those who were seated jumped to their feet.  The conversationalists broke their circle and swung suddenly into line.  Eyes sparkled.  Little happy screams and miniature war-whoops from the boisterous youngsters rang through the parlor.  In eye, and look, and voice, the popular tribute spoke in honor of the popular instrument,—­an instrument whose strings can sound almost every passion forth:  The quip and quirk of merriment, the mourner’s wail, the measured praise of solemn psalms, the lively beat of joy, the subtle charm of indolent moods, and the sweet ecstacy of youthful pleasure, when with flying feet and in the abandon of delight she swings, circles, and floats through the measures of the voluptuous waltz.