for all I know is also dead. I have yet to find out. I myself was taken
prisoner, but luckily three days later managed to escape and join our
army; do you therefore blame me, _Miske_, if I wish to kill as many of
the swine as possible?" He sank back literally purple in the face with
rage, and a murmur of sympathy went round the Ward. His wound was not a
serious one, for which I was thankful, or he might have done some harm.
One evening I was wandering through the "Place d'Armes" when some
violins in a music shop caught my eye. I went in and thus became
acquainted with the family Tétar, consisting of an old father and his
two daughters. They were exceedingly friendly and allowed me to try all
the violins they had. At last I chose a little "Mirecourt" with a very
nice tone, which I hired and subsequently bought.

In time Monsieur Tétar became very talkative, and even offered to play
accompaniments for me. He had an organ in a large room above the shop
cram full of old instruments, but in the end he seemed to think it might
show a want of respect to Madame his late wife (now dead two years), so
the accompanying never came off. For the same reason his daughter, who
he said "in the times" had played the violin well, had never touched her
instrument since the funeral.

* * * * *

There was one special song we heard very often rising up from the Café
Chantant, in the room at the dug-out. When I went round there to have
supper with them we listened to it entranced. It was a priceless tune,
very catching and with lots of go; I can hear it now. I was determined
to try and get a copy, and went to see Monsieur Tétar about it one day.
I told him we did not know the name, but this was the tune and hummed it
accordingly. A French Officer looking over some music in a corner