I turned quickly and perceived three
young fellows in long blue cloaks, one playing a hautboy, another a
clarionet, and the third, who wore an old three-cornered hat, a horn.
They played an accompaniment to my song, which made the woods ring
again. I, nothing loath, took out my fiddle, and played and sang with
a will. Then one glanced meaningly at the others; he who played the
horn stopped puffing out his cheeks and took the instrument down from
his mouth; at last they all ceased playing, and stared at me. I ended
my performance also, and in turn stared at them. "We supposed," the
cornetist said at last, "from the length of the gentleman's coat that
he was a traveling Englishman, journeying afoot here to admire the
beauties of nature, and we thought we might perhaps earn a trifle for
our own travels. But the gentleman seems to be a musician himself."
"Properly speaking, a Receiver," I interposed, "and I come at present
directly from Rome; but, as it is some time since I received anything,
I have paid my way with my violin." "'Tis not worth much nowadays,"
said the cornetist, as he betook himself to the woods again, and
began fanning with his cocked hat a fire that they had kindled there.
"Wind-instruments are more profitable," he continued. "When a noble
family is seated quietly at their mid-day meal, and we unexpectedly
enter their vaulted vestibule and all three begin to blow with all our
might, a servant is sure to come running out to us with money or food,
just to get rid of the noise.
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