In a far better humor, he took out his purse, saying, "Here is your
half-gulden, Rico; it is justly yours. Now go; and for the future be
very attentive to the music-lesson as long as you go to the school. In
that way you may, perhaps, accomplish something; and in twelve or
fourteen years perhaps you may be able to buy a fiddle. Now you may go."

Rico cast one look at the fiddle, and departed with deep sadness in
his heart.

Stineli came running to meet him from behind the wood-pile. "You did
stay a long time. Have you asked the question?"

"It is all of no use," said the boy; and his eyebrows came together in
his distress, and formed a thick black line across his forehead over his
eyes. "A fiddle costs six hundred blutsgers; and in fourteen years I can
buy one, when everybody will be dead. Who will be living fourteen years
from now? There, you may have this; I do not want it." With these words
he pressed the half-gulden into Stineli's hand.

"Six hundred blutsgers!" repeated the girl, horrified. "But where did
this half-gulden come from?"

Rico told her all that had happened at the teacher's, ending with the
same words expressing his great regret, "It is all of no use!"

Stineli tried to console him a little with the half-gulden; but he was
furious at the thought of the innocent piece of money, and would not
even look at it.

So Stineli said, "I will put it with my blutsgers, and we will have it