"One gets much farther with a voice than with legs. If I had had a voice， I would have been a great songstress andwould perhaps have been a baroness by now."
"Or a bookbinder's wife，" said Mother."Had you become rich， you surely would have taken the book- binder."
We do not understand that hint， but Miss Frandsendid.
Peer had to sing for her and sing for the merchant's family， when they heard of his new career. He was calledin one evening wnen they had company downstairs， ana hesang several songs， among them"Mercy for Me."All the company clapped their hands，and Felix did，too;he had heard him sing before; in the stable Peer had sung the en-tire ballet of Samson， and that was the most delightful of all.
"One cannot sing a ballet，"said the lady.
"Yes， Peer can，"said Felix， and so they asked him to do it. He sang， and he talked; he drummed and hehummed;it was child's play，but fragments of well-known melodies came forth which really illustrated what the ballet was about. All the company found it very entertaining;they laughed and praised it， one louder than another.
The merchant's wife gave Peer a huge piece of cake and a silver dollar.
How lucky the boy felt， until he discovered a gen-tleman who stood somewhat in the background， and wholooked sternly at him. There was something harsh and se- vere in the man's black eyes; he did not laugh;he didnot speak a single friendly word; this gentleman was the singing master from the theater.
Next forenoon， Peer went to him， and he stoodthere quite as severe-looking as before.
"What was the matter with you yesterday!"he said.
"Could you not understand that they were making a fool of you?Never do that again，and don't you go running about and singing at doors， either inside or outside. Nowyou can go.I won't give you any singing lesson today."
When Peer left，he was dreadfully downcast; he had fallen out of the master's good graces. On the contrary，the master was really more satisfied with him than ever before. In all the absurdity which he had seen him per- form， there was really some meaning， something quite unusual. The boy had an ear for music， and a voice asclear as a bell and of great compass; if it continued likethat， then the little fellow's fortune was made.
Now began the singing lessons.Peer was industrious and Peer was clever. How much there was to learn， howmuch to know! The mother toiled and slaved to make an honest living， so that her son might be well dressed and neat and not look too shabby among the people to whom he now was invited. He was always singing and jubilant;
they had no need at all of a canary bird， the mother said.Every Sunday he had to sing a psalm with his grandmoth- er. It was delightful to hear his fresh voice lift itself upwith hers."It is much more beautiful than to hear him sing wildly!"That's what she called his singing when， like a little bird， his voice jubilantly gave forth with tonesthat seemed to come of themselves and make such music as they pleased. What tones there were in his little throat， what wonderful sounds in his little breast! In- deed， he could imitate a whole orchestra. There wereboth flute and bassoon in his voice， and there were violinand bugle. He sang as the birds sing; but man's voice is much more charming， even a little man's， when he cansing like Peer.
But in the winter， just as he was to go to the pastor to be prepared for confirmation， he caught cold; the littlebird in his breast said， pip! The voice was ripped like thevampire's back-piece.
"It is no great misfortune，after all，"thought Moth- er and Grandmother."Now he doesn't go singing， tra-la， so he can think more seriously about his religion."
His voice was changing， the singing master said.Peer must not sing at all now. How long would it be? Ayear， perhaps two; perhaps the voice would never comeagain.That was a great grief.
"Think only of your confirmation now，"said Mother and Grandmother."Practice your music，"said the singing master，"but keep your mouth shut."
He thought of his religion，and he studied his mu- sic;it sang and resounded within him. He wrote entire melodies down in notes， songs without words. Finally he wrote the words， too.
"You ale a poet，too，little Peer，"said the mer- chant's wife， to whom he carried his text and music.Themerchant received a piece of music dedicated to him， a piece without words.Felix got one， too; and，yes， MissFrandsen also did，and that went into her scrapbook，in which were verses and music by two who were once young lieutenants but now were old majors on half pay; the book had been given by"a friend，"who had bound it himself.