over. And who would have thought it? these young rascals marched out of school to the sound of music, as proud as the gay fellows who swagger home from the alehouse on festival or gala days, to the accompaniment of fife and tabor.
Venik and Krista went thus from house to house, everywhere playing and singing some piece. Everywhere the school-children trooped after them, and they seemed to have brought back spring with them into the village, and surprising it was to see how many gifts they collected at the various homesteads.
Then they also played and sang pathetic songs. Krista sang “The orphaned child,” Venik accompanied the song on his violin, and when the village children again mentioned to their parents that the musicians themselves were orphans, tears started from every eye—young and old wept aloud, just as though someone had been dead—such were the laments they made. We have already seen how Venik played this piece at his father’s funeral; now to his playing was superadded Krista’s singing, and she in no wise lagged behind her companion. Those around who listened were not orphans; and yet no single heart was unimpressed. The children of the village felt as though they had lost a mother; the mothers felt as though they were already laid in the grave, and their children were covering them with pine needles.
The effect which the piece produced was almost
