Oh, that alters the case! if he was a stranger.... Could I not render him a service in any way? show him about? Really not? because it would be a pleasure to me, and it would cost him nothing.... But the man wanted absolutely to get rid of me, and he sheered off, in all haste, to the other side of the street. I returned to the bench and sat down. I was fearfully disturbed, and the big street organ that had begun to grind a tune a little farther away made me still worse--a regular metallic music, a fragment of Weber, to which a little girl is singing a mournful strain. The flute-like sorrowfulness of the organ thrills through my blood; my nerves vibrate in responsive echo. A moment later, and I fall back on the seat, whimpering and crooning in time to it. Oh, what strange freaks one's thoughts are guilty of when one is starving. I feel myself lifted up by these notes, dissolved in tones, and I float out, I feel so clearly. How I float out, soaring high above the mountains, dancing through zones of light!... "A halfpenny," whines the little organ-girl, reaching forth her little tin plate; "only a halfpenny." "Yes," I said, unthinkingly, and I sprang to my feet and ransacked all my pockets. But the child thinks I only want to make fun of her, and she goes away at once without saying a word. This dumb forbearance was too much for me. If she had abused me, it would have been more endurable. I was stung with pain, and recalled her. "I don't possess a farthing; but I will remember you later on, maybe tomorrow. What is your name? Yes, that is a pretty name; I won't forget it. Till tomorrow, then...." But I understood quite well that she did not believe me, although she never said one word; and I cried with despair because this little street wench would not believe in me. Once again I called her back, tore open my coat, and was about to give her my waistcoat. "I will make up to you for it," said I; "wait only a moment" ... and lo! I had no waistcoat. What in the world made me look for it? Weeks had gone by since it was in my possession. What was the matter with me, anyway? The astonished child waited no longer, but withdrew fearsomely, and I was compelled to let her go. People throng round me, laugh aloud; a policeman thrusts his way through to me, and wants to know what is the row. "Nothing!" I reply, "nothing at all; I only wanted to give the little girl over there my waistcoat ... for her father ... you needn't stand there and laugh at that ... I have only to go home and put on another." "No disturbance in the street," says the constable; "so, march," and he gives me a shove on. "Is them your papers?" he calls after me. "Yes, by Jove! my newspaper leader; many important papers! However could I be so careless?" I snatch up my manuscript, convince myself that it is lying in order and go, without stopping a second or looking about me, towards the editor's office.