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Updated: June 12, 2025


In his most downcast moments, he had swift and foolish visions publicly executing vengeance on him; but if, a moment later, he saw the violinist's red hair or big hat before him in the street, he turned aside as though the other had been plague-struck.

The violinist's tall, thin, loping figure was tightly buttoned into a brownish-grey frock-coat suit; he wore a rather broad-brimmed, grey, velvety hat; in his buttonhole was a white flower; his cloth-topped boots were of patent leather; his tie was bunched out at the ends over a soft white-linen shirt altogether quite a dandy!

As a proof of the old adage that "doctors do not always agree," we are told by one excellent authority that his D minor concerto, the two polonaises, and his "Legende" will probably never vanish from the violinist's repertoire, and by another that Wieniawski's compositions are not of much importance.

He had not been well all the winter; and one day, Madelon, coming down from the violinist's room, had been frightened almost out of her small wits at finding him lying back unconscious in a chair in their little salon.

Rode's Caprices, for instance, are particularly suited for such a purpose, and many of Paganini's famous Caprices have found a lasting place in the concert repertory, with piano accompaniments by artists like Kreisler, Eddy Brown, Edward Behm and Max Vogrich the last-named composer's three beautiful 'Characteristic Pieces' after Paganini are worth any violinist's attention.

Because they call for absolute pitch: they must be played in perfect tune so that each tone stands out in all its fullness and clarity like a rock in the sea. And without a fundamental control of pitch such a master work will always be beyond the violinist's reach. Many a player has the facility; but without perfect intonation he can never attain the highest perfection.

"As regards the theory that you can tell who a violinist's teacher is by the way in which he plays, I do not believe in it. I do not believe that you can tell an Auer pupil by the manner in which he plays.

Not much of a voice was Harmony's, but sweet and low and very true, as became her violinist's ear. "Ah, well! For us all some sweet hope lies Deeply buried from human eyes," she sang, her clear eyes luminous. "And in the hereafter, angels may Roll the stone from its grave away!" Mrs. Boyer mounted the stairs. She was in a very bad humor.

"The trouble lies not with you," repeated the visitor, "but with the miserable violin you have been using and have just destroyed," and he pointed to the shattered instrument. Tears welled from the poor violinist's eyes as he gazed on the fragments of his beloved violin, the pieces lying scattered about as the result of his unfortunate anger. "It was a Stradivarius," said Diotti, sadly.

She sent up her card, and then let her eyes fall upon a wretched beggar man who was trying to play a violin, but was unable by reason of hunger and cold. He looked as if he was dying, and she was moved with a great pity, and longed for her father to come and give some help. While she was anxiously watching, a young man was also struck with the suffering on the violinist's face.

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