suicidal contingencies.

``Do you want the violin or not?''

``I might look at it,'' said Diotti,
resolving mentally that he could go so
far without harm.

``Very well,'' said Satan. He gave
a long whistle.

An old man, bearing a violin case,
came within the room. He bowed to
the wondering Diotti, and proceeded to
open the case. Taking the instrument
out the old man fondled it with loving
and tender solicitude, pointing out its
many beauties--the exquisite blending
of the curves, the evenness of the grain,
the peculiar coloring, the lovely contour
of the neck, the graceful outlines of the
body, the scroll, rivaling the creations
of the ancient sculptors, the solidity of
the bridge and its elegantly carved heart,
and, waxing exceedingly enthusiastic,
holding up the instrument and looking
at it as one does at a cluster of gems, he
added, ``the adjustment of the strings.''

``That will do,'' interrupted Satan,