One of the finest violoncellos made by Nicolo Amati came into Herr Klengel’s possession after a good many years of obscurity. The story runs that a young Russian student at Leipsic, discovering his finances to be in a very exhausted condition, bethought himself of a violoncello which had been in his family for many years, but about which he knew nothing. Thinking that the old instrument might possibly have some value, he boldly took it to a pawnbroker’s on the chance, and demanded a loan of £5 on it. The pawnbroker in his turn was unable to estimate whether the violoncello was worth such an amount, and, to be on the right side, consulted some experts before giving a reply. The experts quickly realised that they had a very fine Nicolo Amati violoncello before them, and through the medium of the pawnbroker offered the young student £200 if he would sell the violoncello outright. The sum was agreed to by the delighted young Russian. Twenty-four hours after he sold it, Herr Klengel became its owner for about double that sum. Profits in the fiddle trade are certainly swift, but they are not always honest. Speaking of pawnbrokers, by the way, it is not often that they meet their match in shrewdness. One of the neatest swindles ever perpetrated took place in New York a few years ago, and victimised a well-known, “three-balls” gentleman to the extent of over £30. According to _The New York Sun_, it was one day in May 1902, that a well-known pawnbroker of Allen Street was visited by a shabbily dressed man who asked for a loan on his violin and bow. “I vas a blayer from Poland,” he said, “and my fiddle vas most waluable. I vouldn’t lose it for anything.” The pawnbroker offered him something like a guinea on it, and the young violinist accepted it, saying at the same time: “Don’t wrab it up. Chust hang it ub der for I vil come and taig it out to-morrow.” The fiddle according to his request was not wrapped up, but placed on a shelf behind the counter. The next day a man with long black hair streaming over his shoulders, and wearing gold-rimmed glasses, entered the pawnshop to inquire the price of some silver-ware. He turned it about, found it was not what he wanted, and, chancing to see the fiddle, asked if he might look at it. The violin and bow were handed to him for inspection and he began to examine them critically. “Ah!” he exclaimed, “at last I haf foundt von of dem! Gott in Himmel! but it is a grandt one.” “A grand what?” asked the pawnbroker. “A real genuine Rubinsky violin,” replied the enraptured foreigner, and whipping it quickly under his chin began suddenly to play. The more he played the more the pawnbroker became convinced that the instrument was extraordinarily valuable. “If you will sell dis fiddle to me,” said the player, pausing, “I vill gif you tree hundredt dollars for it.” “I can’t do that,” said the pawnbroker, “because it is not mine to sell. It was only pledged yesterday.”