Father Mozart smilingly obeyed, after he had kissed his wife, and returned to his room. He could not keep quiet long, however. His heart was too full. He must relieve it in the glorious freedom of nature. He took his hat and cane, quietly slipped out of the house, and hurried through the narrow streets of Salzburg to the beautiful avenue leading to the Archbishop’s château at Heilbronn. Here he could give vent to his feelings without interruption or restraint, for the avenue was usually quiet, and frequented by only a few solitary pedestrians. Father Mozart, ordinarily a very calm, sedate, self-possessed man, was hardly himself to-day, for by the blessing of God a wish, long and secretly cherished in his heart, had been realized. A little son had been given him. When he reflected that he would educate and instruct him, inspire him in his early years with a love for his beautiful art of music, and, with divine aid, develop him into a great musician, a thousand hymns of joy exultantly sang themselves in his heart, and his fancy painted bright pictures of the future. He was oblivious of all around him. He had no eyes for the attractions of the unsurpassably beautiful country stretching out in every direction like a blooming garden. He thought of nothing but his little son. He rubbed his hands together exultantly, muttered unintelligible words to himself, looked up with radiant glance into the blue and now cloudless sky, and so far forgot himself as to indulge in loud and joyous peals of laughter—laughing upon the public highway!—something which no one before had ever known the vice chapelmaster to do. He acted really like one completely beside himself, and so absent-mindedly, indeed, that he failed to observe a gentleman approaching him from Heilbronn, who had been watching him for some little time with a quiet smile. The new-comer stepped behind a tree trunk, and as the happy father was going by without seeing him, he came up behind him, tapped him on the shoulder, and said in good-natured banter: “Why, why, my respected friend and vice chapelmaster Leopold Mozart, what kind of a whimsical notion are you carrying about in your pate that makes you behave on the public thoroughfares like one out of his senses? Never before in all my life have I seen you laughing and acting like this. It must be something extraordinary that has brought about such a radical change.” [Illustration: _He failed to observe a gentleman who had been watching him with a quiet smile_]