A MUSICAL GENIUS 
“ Can you not take him with you? ” 
I explained to the poor woman that it required very 
civilized people to appreciate her son’s music. Among 
the wild Indians I expected to find, later on in my jour¬ 
ney, I was sure that, with music like that, we should all 
be killed; they were such savages! 
After two solid hours, the two chords still continuing, 
with no signs whatever of relenting, I asked the musical 
genius if he could treat me to a different tune. Alas! he 
knew no other, but as he saw that I was so fond of music 
he would again, with the greatest pleasure, go on playing 
the same air; he called it an air. 
“ Muito obrigado! " (“Thank you very much!”) I 
moaned, with a sickly smile on my lips and a violent wish 
to smash guitar and guitarist. 
“ No hai de que! ” (“ Do not mention it! ”) and here 
recommenced the repetition of the two chords. 
“ I should like to go to sleep now; thank you very 
much again for the lovely music,” I next plaintively 
added, in my most approved Brazilian politeness. 
“ Oh, not at all: I shall go on playing while you are 
sleeping. It will give you pleasant dreams! ” 
It was too pathetic. Nothing short of murder could 
have stopped his enthusiasm. Being a traveller of years’ 
experience, I was not to be outwitted. As he would not 
stop the music, I stopped hearing it by stuffing my ears 
tight with cotton-wool. So I slept soundly enough, not¬ 
withstanding the orchestral entertainment. At sunrise, 
when I opened my eyes again, the boy was still at it. I 
removed the cotton from my ears .... yes, indeed, the 
identical two chords! 
The boy and the guitar will perhaps never know what 
a narrow escape they both had! In despair I gave orders 
to get the mules ready at once, in order to depart 
immediately. 
Those halts in farmhouses were dreary beyond words. 
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