know why. I was savin' it for you. It's made in the up-time style, not like the ones you're used to, but I believe you'll actually find it easier to hold with your hand the way it is."
"So," Marla spoke again, "you have your violin, you have your bow, you have your hand, and you have your friends. What more do you need?"
Franz looked around at the smiling faces, and smiled back. "Nothing."
"Then get started."
"As you wish, Mistress Marla," and he danced away from the jab she aimed at his ribs.
Bouree
Grantville
August, 1633
As he was giving the tuning knob a final twist, Franz heard the door open.
"So, have you decided yet?"
Franz looked up from his violin to see his friend Isaac Fremdling entering the choir room. "Have I decided what?"
"How you will string your violin, of course? Will you string it in the usual manner, or will you reverse the order of the strings?" Isaac pulled one of the chairs around and sat down.
"What do you think I should do?"
Isaac fingered his moustache, and after a moment of contemplation said, "'Twould perhaps be best to keep the usual order of the strings. In that manner you and another could play each other's instruments with no difficulty."
"An advantage, to be sure," Franz replied. "Yet think of this, if you will: it will likely be easier to learn to play again if each right finger will move in the same manner and in the same relationship to the strings as the left does—if to play an 'F' the related finger makes the same motion, only mirror reversed, if you will."
"A point," nodded Isaac.
"And then consider the bow. Would it not be easier to train myself to reproduce the position of the bow as in a mirror, rather than in a totally different angle and position?"
"Aye," Isaac nodded again.
"Well, then, Isaac, you have answered the question, have you not?"
"It seems that I have, at that," his friend laughed. " So you have decided, then?"
Franz chuckled, and held up his violin. "Friedrich has moved the sound post inside and made a new bridge. I just now finished the stringing and tuning. Behold, a mirror violin." He handed the instrument to Isaac, who examined it closely, tested the tuning, then attempted to place it under his chin.
"Pfaugh! It feels most unnatural to try to hold it under the right chin. But if anyone can do this, Franz," he handed the violin back, "'tis you."
"My thanks. I've no choice, you see, for now that I see a glimmering of light in the night, I will pursue it with all my heart."
Isaac looked at his friend, his expression sobered, and he said quietly, "I grieved for you when I heard of the attack."
Franz looked down, uncomfortable as always when offered sympathy. "I thank you, but as you are so fond of saying, 'The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.' My pride needed curbing, I freely admit. I could wish that the manner of that curbing had not been so severe, and that I had been calmer and wiser and more considerate of my friends afterward. But it took long months of being alone before I began to slowly grow wise, and it was not until I found my way here to Grantville that I could begin to understand how and why you would say that. The Lord gave, the Lord took away, the Lord gave again, and I have learned to bless Him no matter my circumstance."
"Then you are indeed wise, my friend, for there are few enough even of gray-hairs who possess wisdom that equals what you have just shared." Isaac paused for a moment, then chuckled.
Franz raised an eyebrow.
"My initial reaction to your misfortune was grief indeed," Isaac said, "but hard on its heels came indignation in harness with rage. I must admit that the thought of applying the consequences of the Golden Rule to Heydrich did cross my mind more than once or twice."
"Surely you did not . . . "
"No, I could not bring myself to do it in cold blood. But there were others of like mind, and I doubt not that their conversations did find their ways to Rupert's itching
"So," Marla spoke again, "you have your violin, you have your bow, you have your hand, and you have your friends. What more do you need?"
Franz looked around at the smiling faces, and smiled back. "Nothing."
"Then get started."
"As you wish, Mistress Marla," and he danced away from the jab she aimed at his ribs.
Bouree
Grantville
August, 1633
As he was giving the tuning knob a final twist, Franz heard the door open.
"So, have you decided yet?"
Franz looked up from his violin to see his friend Isaac Fremdling entering the choir room. "Have I decided what?"
"How you will string your violin, of course? Will you string it in the usual manner, or will you reverse the order of the strings?" Isaac pulled one of the chairs around and sat down.
"What do you think I should do?"
Isaac fingered his moustache, and after a moment of contemplation said, "'Twould perhaps be best to keep the usual order of the strings. In that manner you and another could play each other's instruments with no difficulty."
"An advantage, to be sure," Franz replied. "Yet think of this, if you will: it will likely be easier to learn to play again if each right finger will move in the same manner and in the same relationship to the strings as the left does—if to play an 'F' the related finger makes the same motion, only mirror reversed, if you will."
"A point," nodded Isaac.
"And then consider the bow. Would it not be easier to train myself to reproduce the position of the bow as in a mirror, rather than in a totally different angle and position?"
"Aye," Isaac nodded again.
"Well, then, Isaac, you have answered the question, have you not?"
"It seems that I have, at that," his friend laughed. " So you have decided, then?"
Franz chuckled, and held up his violin. "Friedrich has moved the sound post inside and made a new bridge. I just now finished the stringing and tuning. Behold, a mirror violin." He handed the instrument to Isaac, who examined it closely, tested the tuning, then attempted to place it under his chin.
"Pfaugh! It feels most unnatural to try to hold it under the right chin. But if anyone can do this, Franz," he handed the violin back, "'tis you."
"My thanks. I've no choice, you see, for now that I see a glimmering of light in the night, I will pursue it with all my heart."
Isaac looked at his friend, his expression sobered, and he said quietly, "I grieved for you when I heard of the attack."
Franz looked down, uncomfortable as always when offered sympathy. "I thank you, but as you are so fond of saying, 'The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.' My pride needed curbing, I freely admit. I could wish that the manner of that curbing had not been so severe, and that I had been calmer and wiser and more considerate of my friends afterward. But it took long months of being alone before I began to slowly grow wise, and it was not until I found my way here to Grantville that I could begin to understand how and why you would say that. The Lord gave, the Lord took away, the Lord gave again, and I have learned to bless Him no matter my circumstance."
"Then you are indeed wise, my friend, for there are few enough even of gray-hairs who possess wisdom that equals what you have just shared." Isaac paused for a moment, then chuckled.
Franz raised an eyebrow.
"My initial reaction to your misfortune was grief indeed," Isaac said, "but hard on its heels came indignation in harness with rage. I must admit that the thought of applying the consequences of the Golden Rule to Heydrich did cross my mind more than once or twice."
"Surely you did not . . . "
"No, I could not bring myself to do it in cold blood. But there were others of like mind, and I doubt not that their conversations did find their ways to Rupert's itching
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