retold with a gusto that would prove its unique position. Some musicians (but very few) are born rich; some achieve riches, and some—still less in number than those who are born to wealth—have riches thrust upon them.
We wonder how many of the fraternity would use the riches thrust upon them as did the composer Balfe, when, once upon a time, fortune smiled on him.
Balfe was about to set out from Paris for Italy. His carriage had arrived; he stepped into it; and just as he was about to give the word to start, a gentleman hastily drove up, and, asking for the composer, handed him a small packet, with the request that he accept it, but that it be not opened till he was well on his journey. Balfe, though greatly surprised at the request, murmured his acceptance, and hardly had the stranger left till his curiosity prevailed, and he tore open the packet.
Out dropped a letter and with it a thousand-franc note. The missive declared that the writer had been charmed by Balfe's talent, and that, wishing to serve the young composer, he risked sending the enclosed bank note, hoping it might be of use. As Balfe's exchequer was about depleted at this time, he considered himself to have certainly met a streak of good luck.
While he was thus congratulating himself up came another stranger and handed him a second communication,—this time asking that it be given immediate attention. Balfe complied and opened the letter, feeling that he would not now be surprised at a shower of bills. And, true to his guess, out dropped a bill—for over six hundred francs, and with it a request that the account be immediately paid. The bill was of a different kind from that brought by the first messenger. With a sigh he handed over his thousand-franc note and pocketed his change.
Our composer then hastily set out on his journey, fearing other notes and bills,—not of the first kind, however. He had the satisfaction of knowing that, had he
