“As Mendelssohn came down from his desk, radiant with success, I went to meet him. It was the right moment for our greetings, yet, after the first words, the same thought struck us both—‘Twelve years since we wandered day-dreaming in the Campagna!’
“‘Are you still a jester?’ he asked.
“‘Ah no! my joking days are past. To show you how sober and in earnest I am, I hereby solemnly beg a priceless gift of you.’
“‘That is——’
“‘The baton with which you conduct your new work.’
“‘By all means, if I may have yours instead?’
“‘It will be copper for gold, still you shall have it.
“Next day came Mendelssohn’s musical sceptre, for which I returned my heavy oak cudgel with the following note, which I hope would not have disgraced the Last of the Mohicans:—
“‘Great Chief! To exchange our tomahawks is our word given. Common is mine, plain is yours. Squaws and Pale-faces alone love ornament. May we be brethren, so that, when the Great Spirit calls us to the happy hunting grounds, our warriors may hang our tomahawks side by side in the door-way of the Long House.’”
To Joseph D’Ortigue.