“You probably know the same ones I do. Can you play, ‘I Sing to You with Heart and Mouth’?” asked the aunt.
Vinzi knew the hymn very well. After seeking a little for the notes he began to play firmly. The aunt sang heartily, the uncle raised a splendid bass and suddenly Jos joined in with a rich, fine voice. Faz growled low sometimes after his father, then he took up his mother’s high notes. Russli squeaked all sorts of tones too, but the other voices were so strong that it did not disturb the singing. The aunt was so happy over the music that she clamored for another song as soon as the first was done. Then another, and still another.
The uncle said happily, “That was a fine entertainment, and we must do it again tomorrow. We can’t do any better than praise God with music.”
When Vinzi came to his hay-rick his heart was so full of thanksgiving that he was obliged to sit down a while on his high threshold. Looking up to the sky he saw thousands of stars looking happily down upon him. Oh, how wonderfully beautiful it was here. The father had said that it was a splendid thing to praise God with music. Tomorrow they would be allowed to do it again and probably every day after that, thought Vinzi to himself. The pipe had pleased the uncle, too, and he seemed to enjoy hearing it. The happiness in Vinzi’s heart rose higher and higher at this thought. He felt as if he had to sing out loudly once more. In fact it seemed as if all he had to do was to join in the great song of praise which came to him from all sides, from the shining stars, the gleaming chapel, the merrily rushing stream, and the golden moon over the high mountains. He quietly sang to the glorious, magic music about him.
The wind stirred gently and wafted the perfume from the pungent hay to Vinzi’s senses. Suddenly he remembered where he was. As it had grown very cool, he quickly closed the door and sought his inviting bed.
From that day on Lorenz Leza’s family had music every night. They sang eagerly as if it was the chief work of the day. But the work of the day was behind them, and they could give themselves freely to the joys of their happy evenings. What pleased Vinzi most was that his uncle and aunt always counted on having music every night. At supper time the aunt always said, “I look forward already to Vinzi’s playing.”
And when the meal was over the uncle would say, “I suppose we still have time for a song or two.”
Whenever his uncle Lorenz started to sing, more songs he had known in his youth rose in his memory. Even if Vinzi did not know them, all the uncle had to do was to sing them to the boy a few times and the latter would repeat them perfectly. The rest could follow his piping and in that way learn all the songs. The uncle got a tremendous satisfaction from it all. When such a musical evening had passed the uncle shook Vinzi’s hand three or four times. “You can make one young again with your music,” he would say. “You are piping the joy of youth back into my heart, boy.”