"It was a long distance, and the boys grew very weary and hungry. At last Richard made up his mind to hail the first coach and to beg for money. The other boy was timid and hid in the bushes.
"Richard stood in the center of the road as a coach came along. He held up his hand and the coach stopped. But the poor boy's knees were shaking, and he could hardly speak."
Mitzi interrupted her mother. "Why not?" she asked. "I would have spoken. I would have said, 'Give me money. I am hungry.'"
"Yes," laughed Mrs. Toymaker. "I have no doubt of that. For you are always hungry and you can always talk! But, you see, Richard was different."
"A bit foolish, like Fritz," said Mitzi knowingly.
The mother paid no attention to this remark but went on with her story: "The people in the coach were kind and threw money to Richard. He and his friend had a good dinner and finally reached Prague. But they say that he never forgot this experience."
A light began to shine in Mitzi's eyes as her mother finished the tale. An idea had been born in her busy little head. That evening after supper she took Fritz by the hand.
"Come," she whispered. "I have something to tell you—something very exciting." She led him away from their wagon, out upon the moonlit road. "Fritz," she said, "I have thought of a way to help Father. I thought of it after Mother told that story about Richard Wagner. Now, if Richard had been a boy musician like you, he might have played for people and—"
"Do you mean that he might have played on his trip to Prague?" asked Fritz.