flated by a whistle. He beckoned to the little
boy they called Jan, whispered to him, and
presented him with a paper snake, gently,
so as not to startle him. Looking over the
boy's head he said to me, "This one is bashful.
He gets left."

Cuzak had brought home with him a roll
of illustrated Bohemian papers. He opened
them and began to tell his wife the news,
much of which seemed to relate to one
person. I heard the name Vasakova, Vasa-
kova, repeated several times with lively in-
terest, and presently I asked him whether
he were talking about the singer, Maria
Vasak.

"You know? You have heard, maybe?"
he asked incredulously. When I assured him
that I had heard her, he pointed out her pic-
ture and told me that Vasak had broken her
leg, climbing in the Austrian Alps, and would
not be able to fill her engagements. He seemed
delighted to find that I had heard her sing
in London and in Vienna; got out his pipe and
lit it to enjoy our talk the better. She came
from his part of Prague. His father used to
mend her shoes for her when she was a stu-
dent. Cuzak questioned me about her looks,

[[405]]

p404 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p405w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p406

v?