“I propose that we proceed to the nearest town, where such instruments are sure to be on sale; and we can return by the evening, when we are more likely to be admitted into Mynheer Van Arent’s family circle,” said the Count. “You, Baron, surely play on some instrument, and you might obtain it at the same time.”
“The only instruments I play are the Jew’s harp and the kettle-drum, and I am afraid that neither are very well suited to entertain ladies in their drawing-room,” said the Baron.
“Not exactly. The latter would be rather too cumbersome to carry about,” said the Count. “However, let us set forth, or we shall not have time to return before the evening.” Fortunately they found a Trek-Schuit just starting for the far-famed town of Sneek.
Occasionally the boat passed between some of the small towns and villages they had seen afar off, composed of neat houses with yellow and blue blinds. The housewives, in golden casques, the usual headdress, standing at the doors often exhibited a bright copper jug glistening in the sun. The travellers frequently passed numerous boats, the men on board of which saluted them politely. They appeared good-natured, happy fellows, with ruddy countenances, light hair, and rings hanging to their ears. They were mostly dressed in red shirts, blue and white knickerbockers fastened at the knee, and thick brown woollen stockings. The boat, as she glided on, was generally accompanied by sea-gulls, storks with long legs and outstretched necks, flights of lapwings, and other species of the feathered tribe, uttering their plaintive cries, and ever and anon as they skimmed the waves diving below the water to bring some hapless fish in their long slender beaks.
“Here we are,” cried the Count, as they glided into the picturesque little town of Sneek, with its houses of white woodwork and painted window-frames, its winding streets and high-arched bridges, its trees and shady walks along the canals, its gaily-painted canal-boats, and its picturesque water-gate. The town itself was soon inspected, while the Count and the Baron on their way made inquiries for the instrument the former was anxious to purchase. They were almost giving up the search in despair, when they heard of a manufacturer who was said to have produced violins which, in the hands of an artist, were capable of giving forth such touching sounds that many who heard them were moved to tears.
“That is just the description of instrument I require,” exclaimed the Count.
He and the Baron hastened on to the shop of the manufacturer. It was an ancient building, the front of which looked as if, before long, it would become acquainted with the roadway. There were not only violins, but other musical instruments and curiosities of all sorts.
“Before I part with the violin I must hear you play,” said the vendor; “I never allow my instruments to go into unskilled hands.”
The Count eagerly took the violin, and played a few notes. The Baron produced his pocket-handkerchief, and placed it to his eyes.
“Touching, very touching!” he exclaimed.