The　Fifth　String
  by　John　Philip　Sousa
  I
  The　coming　of　Diotti　to　America
  had　awakened　more　than　usual
  interest　in　the　man　and　his　work。　His
  marvelous　success　as　violinist　in　the
  leading　capitals　of　Europe；　together　with
  many　brilliant　contributions　to　the
  literature　of　his　instrument；　had　long　been
  favorably　commented　on　by　the　critics
  of　the　old　world。　Many　stories　of　his
  struggles　and　his　triumphs　had　found
  their　way　across　the　ocean　and　had　been
  read　and　re…read　with　interest。
  Therefore；　when　Mr。　Henry　Perkins；
  the　well…known　impresario；　announced
  with　an　air　of　conscious　pride　and
  pardonable　enthusiasm　that　he　had　secured
  Diotti　for　a　‘‘limited''　number　of
  concerts；　Perkins'　friends　assured　that
  wide…awake　gentleman　that　his　foresight
  amounted　to　positive　genius；　and
  they　predicted　an　unparalleled　success
  for　his　star。　On　account　of　his　wonderful
  ability　as　player；　Diotti　was　a
  favorite　at　half　the　courts　of　Europe；　and
  the　astute　Perkins　enlarged　upon　this
  fact　without　regard　for　the　feelings　of
  the　courts　or　the　violinist。
  On　the　night　preceding　Diotti's　debut
  in　New　York；　he　was　the　center　of
  attraction　at　a　reception　given　by　Mrs。
  Llewellyn；　a　social　leader；　and　a　devoted
  patron　of　the　arts。　The　violinist　made
  a　deep　impression　on　those　fortunate
  enough　to　be　near　him　during　the　even…
  ing。　He　won　the　respect　of　the　men
  by　his　observations　on　matters　of
  international　interest；　and　the　admiration　of
  the　gentler　sex　by　his　chivalric　estimate
  of　woman's　influence　in　the　world's
  progress；　on　which　subject　he　talked
  with　rarest　good　humor　and　delicately
  implied　gallantry。
  During　one　of　those　sudden　and
  unexplainable　lulls　that　always　occur　in
  general　drawing…room　conversations；　Diotti
  turned　to　Mrs。　Llewellyn　and　whispered：
  ‘‘Who　is　the　charming　young
  woman　just　entering？''
  ‘‘The　beauty　in　white？''
  ‘‘Yes；　the　beauty　in　white；''　softly
  echoing　Mrs。　Llewellyn's　query。　He
  leaned　forward　and　with　eager　eyes
  gazed　in　admiration　at　the　new…comer。
  He　seemed　hypnotized　by　the　vision；
  which　moved　slowly　from　between　the
  blue…tinted　portieres　and　stood　for　the
  instant；　a　perfect　embodiment　of　radiant
  womanhood；　silhouetted　against　the
  silken　drapery。
  ‘‘That　is　Miss　Wallace；　Miss　Mildred
  Wallace；　only　child　of　one　of　New
  York's　prominent　bankers。''
  ‘‘She　is　beautifula　queen　by　divine
  right；''　cried　he；　and　then　with　a　mingling
  of　impetuosity　and　importunity；
  entreated　his　hostess　to　present　him。
  And　thus　they　met。
  Mrs。　Llewellyn's　entertainments　were
  celebrated；　and　justly　so。　At　her　receptions
  one　always　heard　the　best　singers
  and　players　of　the　season；　and　Epicurus'
  soul　could　rest　in　peace；　for　her　chef　had
  an　international　reputation。　Oh；
  remember；　you　music…fed　ascetic；　many；
  aye；　very　many；　regard　the　transition
  from　Tschaikowsky　to　terrapin；　from
  Beethoven　to　burgundy　with　hearts
  aflame　with　anticipatory　joyand　Mrs。
  Llewellyn's　dining…room　was　crowded。
  Miss　Wallace　and　Diotti　had
  wandered　into　the　conservatory。
  ‘‘A　desire　for　happiness　is　our　common
  heritage；''　he　was　saying　in　his
  richly　melodious　voice。
  ‘‘But　to　define　what　constitutes
  happiness　is　very　difficult；''　she　replied。
  ‘‘Not　necessarily；''　he　went　on；　‘‘if
  the　motive　is　clearly　within　our　grasp；
  the　attainment　is　possible。''
  ‘‘For　example？''　she　asked。
  ‘‘The　miser　is　happy　when　he　hoards
  his　gold；　the　philanthropist　when　he
  distributes　his。　The　attainment　is　identical；
  but　the　motives　are　antipodal。''
  ‘‘Then　one　possessing　sufficient
  motives　could　be　happy　without　end？''
  she　suggested　doubtingly。
  ‘‘That　is　my　theory。　The　Niobe　of
  old　had　happiness　within　her　power。''
  ‘‘The　gods　thought　not；''　said　she；
  ‘‘in　their　very　pity　they　changed　her
  into　stone；　and　with　streaming　eyes　she
  ever　tells　the　story　of　her　sorrow。''
  ‘‘But　are　her　children　weeping？''
  he　asked。　‘‘I　think　not。　Happiness
  can　bloom　from　the　seeds　of　deepest
  woe；''　and　in　a　tone　almost　reverential；
  he　continued：　‘‘I　remember　a　picture　in
  one　of　our　Italian　galleries　that　always
  impressed　me　as　the　ideal　image　of
  maternal　happiness。　It　is　a　painting　of
  the　Christ…mother　standing　by　the　body
  of　the　Crucified。　Beauty　was　still　hers；
  and　the　dress　of　grayish　hue；　nun…like　in
  its　simplicity；　seemed　more　than　royal
  robe。　Her　face；　illumined　as　with　a　light
  from　heaven；　seemed　inspired　with　this
  thought：　‘They　have　killed　Himthey
  have　killed　my　son！　Oh；　God；　I　thank
  Thee　that　His　suffering　is　at　an　end！'
  And　as　I　gazed　at　the　holy　face；　an…
  other　light　seemed　to　change　it　by
  degrees　from　saddened　motherhood　to
  triumphant　woman！　Then　came：　‘He
  is　not　dead；　He　but　sleeps；　He　will
  rise　again；　for　He　is　the　best　beloved
  of　the　Father！'　''
  ‘‘Still；　fate　can　rob　us　of　our　patrimony；''
  she　replied；　after　a　pause。
  ‘‘Not　while　life　is　here　and　eternity
  beyond；''　he　said；　reassuringly。
  ‘‘What　if　a　soul　lies　dormant　and
  will　not　arouse？''　she　asked。
  ‘‘There　are　souls　that　have　no　motive
  low　enough　for　earth；　but　only　high
  enough　for　heaven；''　he　said；　with　evident
  intention；　looking　almost　directly
  at　her。
  ‘‘Then　one　must　come　who　speaks
  in　nature's　tongue；''　she　continued。
  ‘‘And　the　soul　will　then　awake；''　he
  added　earnestly。
  ‘‘But　is　there　such　a　one？''　she
  asked。
  ‘‘Perhaps；''　he　almost　whispered；　his
  thought　father　to　the　wish。
  ‘‘I　am　afraid　not；''　she　sighed。　‘‘I
  studied　drawing；　worked　diligently　and；
  I　hope；　intelligently；　and　yet　I　was
  quickly　convinced　that　a　counterfeit
  presentment　of　nature　was　puny　and
  insignificant。　I　painted　Niagara。　My
  friends　praised　my　effort。　I　saw
  Niagara　againI　destroyed　the　picture。''
  ‘‘But　you　must　be　prepared　to
  accept　the　limitations　of　man　and　his
  work；''　said　the　philosophical　violinist
  ‘‘Annihilation　of　one's　own　identity
  in　the　moment　is　possible　in　nature's
  domainnever　in　man's。　The　resistless；
  never…ending　rush　of　the　waters；
  madly　churning；　pitilessly　dashing
  against　the　rocks　below；　the　mighty
  roar　of　the　loosened　giant；　that　was
  Niagara。　My　picture　seemed　but　a
  smear　of　paint。''
  ‘‘Still；　man　has　won　the　admiration
  of　man　by　his　achievements；''　he　said。
  ‘‘Alas；　for　me；''　she　sighed；　‘‘I　have
  not　felt　it。''
  ‘‘Surely　you　have　been　stirred　by　the
  wonders　man　has　accomplished　in
  music's　realm？''　Diotti　ventured。
  ‘‘I　never　have　been。''　She　spoke
  sadly　and　reflectively。
  ‘‘But　does　not　the　passion…laden　theme
  of　a　master；　or　the　marvelous　feeling　of
  a　player　awaken　your　emotions？''　persisted　he。
  She　stood　leaning　lightly　against　a
  pillar　by　the　fountain。　‘‘I　never　hear　a
  pianist；　however　great　and　famous；　but
  I　see　the　little　cream…colored　hammers
  within　the　piano　bobbing　up　and　down
  like　acrobatic　brownies。　I　never　hear
  the　plaudits　of　the　crowd　for　the
  artist　and　watch　him　return　to　bow　his
  thanks；　but　I　mentally　demand　that
  these　little　acrobats；　each　resting　on　an
  individual　pedestal；　and　weary　from　his
  efforts；　shall　appear　to　receive　a　share
  of　the　applause。
  ‘‘When　I　listen　to　a　great　singer；''
  continued　this　world…defying　skeptic；
  ‘‘trilling　like　a　thrush；　scampering　over
  the　scales；　I　see　a　clumsy　lot　of　ah；　ah；
  ahs；　awkwardly；　uncertainly　ambling　up
  the　gamut；　saying；　‘were　it　not　for　us
  she　could　not　sing　thusgive　us　our
  meed　of　praise。'　''
  Slowly　he　replied：　‘‘Masters　have
  written　in　wondrous　language　and　masters
  have　played　with　wondrous　power。''
  ‘‘And　I　so　long　to　hear；''　she　said；
  almost　plaintively。　‘‘I　marvel　at　the
  invention　of　the　composer　and　the　skill
  of　the　player；　but　there　I　cease。''
  He　looked　at　her　intently。　She　was
  standing　before　him；　not　a　block　of
  chiseled　ice；　but　a　beautiful；　breathing
  woman。　He　offered　her　his　arm　and
  together　they　made　their　way　to　the
  drawing…room。
  ‘‘Perhaps；　some　day；　one　will　come
  who　can　sing　a　song　of　perfect　love　in
  perfect　tones；　and　your　soul　will　be
  attuned　to　his　melody。''
  ‘‘Perhapsand　good…night；''　she
  softly　said；　leaving　his　arm　and　joining
  her　friends；　who　accompanied　her　to　the
  carriage。
  II
  The　intangible　something　that　places
  the　stamp　of　popular　approval　on
  one　musical　enterprise；　while　another
  equally　artistic　and　as　cleverly　managed
  languishes　in　a　condition　of　unendorsed
  greatness；　remains　one　of　the　unsolved
  mysteries。
  When　a　worker　in　the　vineyard　of
  music　or　the　drama　offers　his　choicest
  tokay　to　the　public；　that　fickle　coquette
  may　turn　to　the　more　ordinary　and　less
  succulent　concord。　And　the　worker
  and　the　public　itself　know　not　why。
  It　is　true；　Diotti's　fame　had　preceded
  him；　but　fame　has　precede