“Then he has traveled abroad?” questioned the stranger.
“Has he?” cried the sailor. “You may wager your coin without parsimony upon it. We traveled together through Europe, Oorup, Eerup, slid through Greece, and knocked the stuffing out of Turkey. His greatest triumph was when he played before Emperor William, of Germany. The emperor was spellbound. In his excitement the ends of his mustache became entangled in his eyebrows, and it required fourteen attendants with currycombs and brushes to clear them out. At the close of the performance, when the last throbbing note of music had died away, and Abe had lowered his violin, the emperor sprang to his feet and shouted:
”‘Ich liebe dich! Gott in Himmel! Frankfurters and harncase! Likewise pumpernickle!’ Then he fell on Abe’s neck, weeping as if his heart would break. We were entertained at the royal palace, where we dined in state. That night I slept in a beautiful bed with rustling silken curtains, and then—I woke up."
“Why, cap’n!” gasped Abe.
“Hush!” said Wiley, behind his hand. “You may have forgotten it, but I remember it just as well as I remember our trip abroad.”
“Who is the instructor of this wonderful young musician?” asked the stranger.
“Instructor?” exclaimed the marine marvel. “Why, such a prodigious prodigy needs no instructor save his own intuition. Nature has been his instructor. He has listened to the singing of the brook, the wind, the trees, the birds, and the grasshoppers. All those palpitating melodies he has incorporated into his wonderful curriculum of music.”
“What did you say the boy’s name was?” asked the inquisitive stranger.
“It is Abe—Master Abe.”
“But his name in full?”