"Yes," admitted Pinton, "I am an organist, and an organist who would
fain become a pianist." The other started.
"I am a pianist myself, and yet I cannot say that I would like to play
the organ."
"You are a pianist?" said Pinton, in a puzzled voice.
"Well, why not? I studied in Paris, and I suppose my piano technic stood
me in good stead in my newer profession. Just look at my hands if you
doubt my word."
Aghast, the organist examined the shapely hands before him. Without
peradventure of a doubt they were those of a pianist, an expert pianist,
and one who had studied assiduously. He was stupefied. A burglar and a
pianist! What next?
Mr. Blastion continued his edifying remarks: "Yes, I studied very hard.
I was born in the Southwest, and went to Paris quite young. I had good
fingers and was deft at sleight-of-hand tricks. I could steal a
handkerchief from a rabbi--which is saying volumes--and I played all the
Chopin etudes before I was fifteen. At twenty-one I knew twenty-five
concertos from memory, and my great piece was the _Don Juan Fantasy_.
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