On the snow covered stones of the Stephan of Vienna, Ben and Steve danced joyously. The boy Ben because it was Christmas Eve. Because also in the rapid motion his little body forgot how poorly it was clad. While Steve, the terrier of Scottish ancestry, danced because anything his small master did was pleasing in his sight, and to be copied, if possible. Under Ben's chin was tucked a violin; and as the boy danced he played snatches of melody: Bits of Hungarian folk songs, and bars of the waltzes the Viennese love, which set the feet of the passers-by moving more swiftly. But not one Kreutzer had been slipped into the boy's hand, although it was Christmas Eve.