"What is his name?"
"It is Master Naumann, chapel-master to the Elector of Saxony."
"Let me speak with him, if he is in the house."
"Certainly, if you want to ask any thing."
"I want to thank him."
"Well, come to-morrow morning."
The next morning the strange visitor was announced to the composer Naumann.
"Who is the Old Musician?" he asked. The man could not tell. He had been known by that name for years in Berlin, and was thought to be partially insane at times. But he was said to have a thorough knowledge of music.
"Bring him in," said Naumann. The old man entered the room. He had a dignity of mien that inspired respect, in spite of his poor apparel; and Naumann rose and advanced to meet him.
"You are welcome, my good friend, though I know not your name—welcome as a lover of our noble art. Take this chair."