"Now," she thought, "is the time to fetch Father." She whispered to Fritz, "I am going for Father. I shall be back presently. Play until I come."
As Mitzi turned to leave, she bumped into a gentleman who carried a violin case under his arm. Mitzi did not know that this gentleman was an important music master. She hardly looked at him.
She said quickly, "Excuse me, please," and pushed her way out of the crowd. She must go for her father.
The music master stood quite still, listening. What was that he heard? What did he see? A little boy standing beside a pond, playing the violin—a little boy with a smiling face, playing the violin better than any of the music master's grown-up pupils. Who was this little boy? Where had he learned to play like that?
The music master drew closer to Fritz. He asked Fritz to play compositions by Bach and Mozart. He was astonished at how well Fritz played them.
In the meantime Mitzi hurried to her father's booth in the square.
"Father," she cried, "come! Come quickly! I have something to show you."
Mr. Toymaker jumped as if he had been shot.
"What do you mean by startling me like that?" he said to Mitzi. "You are like a young thunderbolt!"
Mitzi's cheeks were glowing. Her eyes danced.