The Hillsdale standard. [volume] (Hillsdale, Mich.) 1851-1909, 1861-03-19
Written for the Sta ndard
MY MUSIC SCHOLAR.
BY BESSIE wHITFoRD.

The auctioneer's flag waved over my uncle's
home in -. The wealthy firm of Thorne
IL Co. had failed, and in that failure we were
made homeless. How the truth came upon
me-that /, the pctted child Of adoption,
who had known no need Of the slightest ex.
erion, had no home; no one to whom i
could lightfully look to for support. Yet of
this | thought not then, ! must sthe my sell
fish sorrow to tighten the load upon my un.
cle's heart. Now l knew why he could
neither eat nor sleep; now | understood the
strange indifference, the look of continual ag-
ony. OH if he had only told mo of the
impending ruin. These sudden blows strike
out the very life from the heart.
The creditors were all paid, even to the
last farthing, but there was nothing left
nothing left; my uncle repeated it sadly ms
he paced up and down the little room in the
small hired house, and yet, chmed in dear
Aunt Mercy, VIC have health, and with the
little salary which you have rs clerk we may
at least, live in comfort Bessie will feel it
most, poor child.
81, never fear for me, auntic, misfortune
will perhaps do for me, what your loving
care could not, make me noble, useful
woman" spok the words galy and with
a chime of laughter. that after all, was but
mockery; for my heart was very sad and de
spending, yet in my little, lily furnished room
that night, / resolved TO cast off the regrets
that made life burden; TO go forth to the
future with strong heart; to patiently, no.
bly, work out my lifc's destiny, and in the ac-
complishmcut of that purpose, find bliss
over which fortune could have no control, and
though sleep came not to my tired eyes, with
Il c morning went forth a new creature, in
strong resolutions, high hopes and unwayer-
ing faith.
"You teach music why, Bessie, are you
crazy? YOU little girl"
"And why not uncle, did not my teacher,
Monsieur Hambic, assure you that in execu-
tion excclled and in knowledge lacked moth
ing; (making all allowance for his musical
nattery,) and ha,'nt YOU said a thousand
times, my will was law? Your little girl will
make up in energy what she lacks in height,
my great uncle
So it was settled, and ore beautiful day
took a seat in the cars eEroute to Centrevile,
where n friend had kindly obtained class Of
ten scholars. How hard it is to part from
those we love. In spite Of all my resolutions
the tears would come, but brushing them
quickly away, glanced over my list Of names
pretty names, all Of thcm-I was glad Of
that, for hated long unmusical cognonens.
All girls, too, save one, Paul Whitford -
Now, dislikcd boys generally, and of all
things, boy learning music. | fancied the
little red fingers capering awkwardly over the
koys of the piano, while lis active brain was
resolving some new plan OF mischief to be
played upon me, ere We reached the next
bar; and thought what way Of procedure
would best ward off his malicious intentions,
and bring linn into state of submission, for
a naturally submissive boy, | believe the
world has yet. for the first tme TO see, /
feared my patience would not stand the test
and l wondered what they would say, if |
should happen in my vcxation to pull his ears.
"Ccntrevllle." screamed out the conductor,
and speedily | alighted, intending to take a
carriage, but carriages, there were none; and
looking up the town from the depot, | saw
that all my ideas Of Cenrcville, were but
ideas, the reality fell far below them.
BY cnquiring, found the way to Mrs.
Dayton's, the lady with whom was to board
With bustling cCrdiality she received me, and
with many apologies led me to my rocm.--
Wcaried and sad; how glad was to be alone,
and | sank down to think of my new situa-
ton and remember with tears the Gear absent
ones. Meanwhile, could hear my landady
giving Miss Winkle description OF my ap.
pearance, and the prospect of my being a
useful member Of society.
She certainly could not have known tho
power of her voice, if she would only tune it
to a softer key, but the description went on.
"She don't look as if she could kill a mus
quito, and talks as if she hadn't got breath to
last her over night. I'm sure she'll never DO
to lead the choir. Th came confused
mutmur of brown silk, black veil, blue rib
bon, all of which | knew arpcrtained to my
humble self,
CcnrcviIIe had never had regular teach.
er in music before; so my coming was hailed
as quite variation in the dull routine of life,
and every man, woman, and child happened
in to hear me play little. 1t "wasnt quite
tea time, and Mrs. B. would like so much 10
hear song Miss Felicia ID. "wished |
would just run over that charming polka. -
A baud Of laughing chillrcn wished me to
sing "Thc little bird that flew away" so
.. 20 ba