234 



Pagaiiini's Interview with Satan. LSept. 



Save some professor which the laws may bring. 



That honest folks their judgment may applaud. 

 Who makes a flourish on a simjle string. 



And exits with a chord. 

 He raged, he stamped, he swore. 

 His long and jetty hair to rags he tore. 



And got in such a passion. 

 That all at once around about his middle , . , . 



His dress was hanging somewhat Wetherell-fashion ; 

 And then he wished the Devil had his fiddle. 



Alone — alone he stood 1 

 And felt a something creeping o'er his blood ; 

 The candle in the socket burnt more blue. 

 The air seemed growing of a sulphur hue ; 



He looked, and looked again, and gave a groan. 



For he was not alone : 

 There right before him, on the self-same level. 

 He saw the Devil ! 

 I will not now describe how he was drest ; 

 I merely sav 'twas with respectability — 

 Such as would mark the Devil of gentility. 

 His claws looked just as clever. 

 His tail seemed much the same as ever • 

 Ask Cruikshank for the rest. 



"With graceful bow, and look paternal. 



And gentle voice, he said But stay : 



That voice was really then not so infernal 

 As many poets say. 



" Mortal !" he said. 

 And bowed his head, 

 " Give me your fiddle !"— and then he took it ; 

 (Now this I know 

 Has happened so ; 

 I'd say it before a judge— and book it). 

 And then— as if the young winds from their sleep 



Arose refreshed to journey o'er the earth. 

 Sweeping the echoes from the billowy deep. 

 And calling all sweet voices into birth- 

 There came such soft delicious tones around. 



Filling the air with such melodious tune. 

 As if a charm was borne in every sound. 



Sweet as the fragrance in the flowers of June. 



Now high, now low it went. 

 In sounds so full of richness, that it bred 

 A world of wonder in the fiddler's head. 

 To know from what divinest instrument 

 Those tones arose : 

 His dark eye brightened. 

 His soul began to feel less frightened ; 

 A look 

 He took. 

 And squinted o'er his nose ! 

 Oh ' the amazement which he felt to see 

 The Devil there with fiddle in his hand. 

 Playing a concerto piece so fine and grand. 

 That e'en Viotti could not play, or any great as he ; 

 And then the tone 



