Fritz let his violin fall to his side. A look of disappointment passed over his face and covered the smile.
"Do not leave yet," said a voice. "Play some more."
It was the music master speaking. Mitzi wiped a tear with the corner of her apron and looked at the gentleman with the violin case. His expression was kind.
"We must go," she said to him. "But we shall be back again tomorrow."
Mitzi did not know just why she said that. Only quite suddenly she had determined that she would be back tomorrow.
Some one in the crowd called, "One more selection! Come, young one; play!"
A coin came tumbling at Fritz's feet.
"Yes, yes! More music, little fiddler! More music!" cried others.
STOOD ON HER HEAD