"Tum-me-lum, tum-me-lum, tum-me-lum!" said the Fire-drum. "Peterhas gone clear out of his wits. I think there must be a fire in thehouse."
  Next day the mother went to market.
  "Shall I tell you news, Peter?" she asked when she came home. "Acapital piece of news. Burgomaster's Charlotte has engaged herselfto the state councillor's son; the betrothal took place yesterdayevening."
  "No!" cried Peter, and he sprang up from his chair. But his motherpersisted in saying "Yes." She had heard it from the baker's wife,whose husband had it from the burgomaster's own mouth
  And Peter became as pale as death, and sat down again.
  "Good Heaven! what's the matter with you?" asked his mother.
  "Nothing, nothing; only leave me to myself," he answered but thetears were running down his cheeks.
  "My sweet child, my golden treasure!" cried the mother, and shewept; but the Fire-drum sang, not out loud, but inwardly.
  "Charlotte's gone! Charlotte's gone! and now the song is done."
  But the song was not done; there were many more verses in it, longverses, the most beautiful verses, the golden treasures of a life.
  "She behaves like a mad woman," said the neighbor's wife. "All theworld is to see the letters she gets from her golden treasure, andto read the words that are written in the papers about his violinplaying. And he sends her money too, and that's very useful to hersince she has been a widow."
  "He plays before emperors and kings," said the town musician. "Inever had that fortune, but he's my pupil, and he does not forgethis old master."
  And his mother said,
  "His father dreamt that Peter came home from the war with a silvercross. He did not gain one in the war, but it is still moredifficult to gain one in this way. Now he has the cross of honor. Ifhis father had only lived to see it!"
  "He's grown famous!" said the Fire-drum, and all his native townsaid the same thing, for the drummer's son, Peter with the red hair-Peter whom they had known as a little boy, running about in woodenshoes, and then as a drummer, playing for the dancers- was becomefamous!
  "He played at our house before he played in the presence ofkings," said the burgomaster's wife. "At that time he was quitesmitten with Charlotte. He was always of an aspiring turn. At thattime he was saucy and an enthusiast. My husband laughed when heheard of the foolish affair, and now our Charlotte is a statecouncillor's wife."
  A golden treasure had been hidden in the heart and soul of thepoor child, who had beaten the roll as a drummer- a roll of victoryfor those who had been ready to retreat. There was a golden treasurein his bosom, the power of sound; it burst forth on his violin as ifthe instrument had been a complete organ, and as if all the elves of amidsummer night were dancing across the strings. In its sounds wereheard the piping of the thrush and the full clear note of the humanvoice; therefore the sound brought rapture to every heart, and carriedhis name triumphant through the land. That was a great firebrand-the firebrand of inspiration.
  "And then he looks so splendid!" said the young ladies and the oldladies too; and the oldest of all procured an album for famous locksof hair, wholly and solely that she might beg a lock of his richsplendid hair, that treasure, that golden treasure.
  And the son came into the poor room of the drummer, elegant as aprince, happier than a king. His eyes were as clear and his face wasas radiant as sunshine; and he held his mother in his arms, and shekissed his mouth, and wept as blissfully as any one can weep forjoy; and he nodded at every old piece of furniture in the room, at thecupboard with the tea-cups, and at the flower-vase. He nodded at thesleeping-bench, where he had slept as a little boy; but the oldFire-drum he brought out, and dragged it into the middle of theroom, and said to it and to his mother:
  "My father would have beaten a famous roll this evening. Now Imust do it!"