[Sidenote: MUSICAL EVENINGS] Before concluding this slight sketch of the happy days I passed at Whittlebury Lodge, which extended over many years, I am tempted to insert a short anecdote, proving how easily fame may be established in some cases. My maid told me that the housekeeper had informed her that Mr Jones, the valet, was so excellent a musician that he was constantly sent for into the drawing-room to perform before the company. His proficiency consisted in pumping the organ for the lady of the house, who was a very good performer on that instrument. We had indeed some excellent musicians and superior vocalists in our society, and the following is a slight record of the way we passed our time— SONG “Call back the days that fled too fast In mellow autumn’s prime, Like our own light skiff they glided past Upon the waves of time. “Call back the hours, those gladsome hours, The song, the jest, the glee, The perfume of the lingering flowers, Sweet summer’s legacy. “The hunter’s horn at early morn, Proclaimed its welcome sound, And each forest glade an answer made, With joyous echo round. “And when the shades of evening fell, And day’s glad toil was o’er, Then music with its genial spell, The senses captive bore. “While every breast the charm confessed, That bound the willing ear, And eyes now bright in beauty’s light Were glistening with a tear. “Call back those hours, thou hast the art, Thy melody can raise, And for a time beguile the heart With thoughts of other days.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XX MUNICH—SECOND VISIT TO ITALY