Europe. Doctor Wuellner, formerly of Dresden, is now at the head of the Cologne Conservatory. As an instructor in theory and the art of conducting, he has no superior. He receives a salary of twenty-five thousand marks ($6000), a large salary for Germany.

The head of the Paris Conservatory of Music is Ambrose Thomas, the composer of "Mignon." The French Government grants every year a certain number of musical scholarships. The winner of one of these scholarships receives free tuition, first in the Paris Conservatory, and afterwards in the Italian school at Milan. The latter does not now enjoy the reputation it once did. Neither the Milan school nor any other Italian school of music will compare with the German conservatories. But the French Government could not stomach the idea of sending scholars to her ancient enemy across the Rhine. Moreover, since 1870, anything French is looked down upon in Germany. Few French operas succeed nowadays on German boards. Audran's "Grand Mogul" and "Gillette" may be mentioned as two exceptions. Those light and breezy productions, after a long run in Paris, met with almost equal success in Berlin.

Audran used to live on dry bread in a garret. His "Mascotte" had a seven hundred nights' run in Paris, and the lucky composer now has a pocket by no means empty. It is said Audran purposes abandoning the field of light opera, and will enter more lofty and classical regions. It is scarcely probable, however, that the mind which produced the "Mascotte" will ever be able to compose anything in the highly classical and heavy style of Richard Wagner.

CHAPTER XXV.

AMSTERDAM.-A LONG SERMON.-HONORS TO AN ACTRESS.-STORY OF A DUTCHMAN'S NOSE.

WHEN I landed in Amsterdam one Sunday morning, I saw hundreds of men and boys flying kites. The city contains a net-work of canals. Some of the graybeards were so absorbed with their kite-flying, their eyes were so constantly looking heavenward, I feared they would tumble backward into the canals. With practice, however, had come skill, and as near as some of them backed to the water's edge, none fell in.

I intended to stay but one day in Amsterdam. An untoward incident caused me to stay two days. I had gazed half an hour at the old men flying kites, and was proceeding to the celebrated Zoological Gardens, when I passed the open door of a church, and conceived the unhappy thought of entering.

"I will merely see what a Dutch church is like," I said to myself, "then I will go on to the Gardens."

I entered, spent five minutes gazing at the dim windows, at the few ancient and faded paintings, then turned to go. Alas! it was impossible. The doors were locked. I was forced to listen to the very end of that Dutch sermon-the longest sermon, I am sure, that any one, Dutch or English, ever preached. When finally the services ended and the doors opened, it was too late to go to the Gardens, so I stayed over another day.

In Holland matches are almost as large around as lead-pencils. Match-safes are large in proportion. Cigars are twice as thick as American cigars. The Dutch wooden shoe is a small boat. They seem to seek, not grace or beauty, but solidityextreme solidity. They attain clumsiness.

Returning Monday morning from the Zoological Gardens, I

found the streets jammed and packed with an immense crowd. Every window was filled with faces, every lamp-post was adorned with two or more urchins. The occasion was evidently something unusual. Many houses were draped in mourning. When at length a funeral cortége approached, preceded by a band playing solemn dirges, and followed by the military and a vast concourse of citizens, I concluded the King or some other high dignitary was dead. I was mistaken. The deceased to whom these honors were being paid was an actress. She had amused the Amsterdam populace for fifty years; the populace was now showing its respect for her services and her genius. In America five hundred years' successful service would not gain an actor or actress such public honors or recognition.

My train did not leave until midnight. I took advantage of the opportunity to call on the Dutch musician, my former fellow-tramp, whose address I found in my note-book. He was sitting in an old arm-chair, the lamp turned down, the room lighted by the cheerful glow of a bright coal fire.

"Ah! welcome, old fellow!" he exclaimed. "Off with your overcoat and draw up to the fire."

I had often pictured to myself the snug, cosey quarters of the German student - class, but never had my wildest fancy painted a room full of pulleys, ropes, Indian clubs, bean-bags, and similar odd machines. After the first salutations I spent fully ten minutes gazing at the various contrivances around

me.

"What on earth does it all mean?" I asked.

"Not so fast!" replied the Wagnerian musician. "We have not come to that yet. I will explain presently."

Turning up the light, he pushed a little table between us. "First supper, then my story," he began, taking up a dish of oatmeal and a pot of boiled prunes. "This, with a glass of hot water, will constitute our supper."

"Prunes and hot water! Excuse me, but I have just dined." "Ah! then I shall have to sup alone;" and drinking a glass of hot water, he began to slowly eat the oatmeal and prunes.

When he had finished he pushed aside the plates, removed the table, and faced me with the question,

"Do you see anything peculiar about my nose?"

I began to doubt my friend's sanity. There he sat, his tall figure reclining in his easy-chair, an intelligent, handsome head, asking me if I saw anything peculiar about his nose! Was he crazy? I assured him I observed nothing extraordinary about his nasal organ, except that it was an unusually white and finely chiselled specimen; whereupon he continued, with a grave look,

"Six months ago, after parting from you at Munich, I returned to Amsterdam, and shortly afterwards fitted up my gymnasium, got my books of hygiene, gave up beer, and began living on a frugal diet of oatmeal and fruits. From your remark, and from my own observation, I perceive that I have been successful.

"On the return trip from Munich I stopped at Ruedesheim, on the Rhine, to transact some business with an old friend of my father's. Herr Siefert's home was at a country place several miles from the town, and I rode thither on horseback. When within a short distance of my destination I overtook a young lady, also on horseback, and travelling in the same direction as myself. Observing her graceful figure and erect carriage, I mustered courage, spurred my horse, and overtaking the fair stranger, raised my hat and bowed.

"Can you direct me to Herr Siefert's?' I asked.

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Certainly—a beautiful blush suffusing her cheeks. 'You have but to keep this straight road. But may I not ask if this is Herr Mies?'

"At your service; and you are—'

"Marie Siefert. Papa has been expecting you for a day or two. I guessed who you were the moment you asked after him.'

"We then rode on together, I feeling as if I were floating in the air, every moment more and more bewitched by my beautiful companion. With clear-cut, regular features, rosy

cheeks, sparkling brown eyes, a wealth of nut-brown hair blown loosely by the wind, and a figure as trim and symmetrical as a sylph's, I thought her the handsomest woman I had ever seen. My admiration was but ill concealed, and she wore an amused smile as we cantered along.

"It was near sundown when we reached 'Der Ruh,' Herr Siefert's place. My fair guide, excusing herself, retired, leaving me in charge of her brother, who showed me to my room. There, left to myself half an hour before supper, I sat down to reflect. You will think it absurd, but the matter had actually gone that far-I was plotting and planning how to find an excuse for prolonging my stay. Love at first sight? Perhaps it was, I will not say; but if you had seen her! there never was a lovelier girl. I dreaded the time when my visit would come to an end. The ringing of a bell suddenly interrupted my reflections. A few moments later August Siefert knocked at my door, and we walked in together to the dining-room. The family were around the table. Upon my entrance they arose.

"Herr Mies, I believe,' said Frau Siefert, a motherly old lady; your mother and I were old friends. This is my daughter.'

"I believe I have had the pleasure-' I said, as I turned and beheld my fair guide.

"What?' she said, opening wide her beautiful eyes.

I never saw you before in all my life!'

"I was amazed, dumfounded.

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'Why,

"Surely,' I stammered-' surely, Fraulein, why-er-—' ́ I go no further.

could

"You have been dreaming!' said the young lady, with a silvery laugh. But come, if we take so much of your time in introductions, you will lose your supper.'

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'During the whole meal my thoughts were bent in a vain endeavor to solve Fraulein Siefert's incomprehensible conduct. The rest of the family had not seemed to notice it. After supper I went into Herr Siefert's study to talk over business matters. It was late before we said good-night and retired. When