Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1865-12-23
MISCELLANY.
P1CEED UP.


YOu never picked up anything? Blu
Mr.. Arne did Nothing SO strange il
that, you think. No. / have known
many TO be lucky In that way. Yet
how many ever found what Philip
found. But then he needed something
to cheer him, something to amuse wher
bis slight arm grew tremulOus welding
the magic bow; when the spirit OF
music within him seemed to faint and
grow weary with its ardnOus struggle to
burst lis. prison baTsl Besides, in the
wide world no kith or kin had he, nc
kind, welcoming eyes ever met his, no
no eager hand waited for his clasp-he
was very much alone when he found
this
His days were spent in an attic cham
Der, though not happily. still almost
cheerfnlly; his evenings he lent for a
slender interest to the second violin OF
the orchestra of a secOnd-rate theatre.
When seated at the blazing fOOt-lights
with his bow capering, of its own will,
across the strings, and the music vanlt-
ing itself over his bowed head, lac was
no longer the poor, striving, hungry,
halt. clad vagrant, bat a sublime wOr-
shipper In a temple not made with hands,
a soul feediBgou the fruition of the flu
ture, grand ideal soul, with an immor-
tai hunger, though inheriting a
kingdom clothed with the glory of a
rainbow, whose arch scaled heaven and
vet disiained not to touch the earth of
humanity. a glad inspired wanderer
through all the realms of light and Joy
and melody intense.
..Who knows, he continued, while
securing it from future mishaps-"whO
knows my little Ariel, but that some
future age will treasure you as the
mouth-pieee of my inspiration? BE pa
tient, little oner' As he raised himself
he paused and listened. Close beside
lowered an arched doorway, aud all its
-Tecesses wrapped in denseSt shadow; it
seemed to him that little star issued
ffOm this doorway; he bent forward
without perceiving anything, then lift
ed the violin to his ear '.What grum-
bling Ariel2" he said, and as though
Ariel indeed spoke, timid questiOner
broke the quiet. Ef
''Speak 10 me?" For a moment it
appeared to Philip Arne as if he had
passed out of the outer world into that
of fancy and fairy, into beautiful fam
tastlc world of the magicians; that his
violin had become living and voiced
soul; then he found space and breath to
inteErOgate it: ''Who are you?" His
Voice had always the caressing softness
of a June wind; just now it was as
though Aleyne had spoken, but there
7 was nosreply. He grew inpatient, per-
haps Disappointed; in all his life moth
ing stronger than disappointment and
distress had come TO him. Here was
who cOHld tell what? He repeated the
question; the answer was ready now.
''IdOn't know; will you-will you-hurt
me?''
'.Oh child No, no, how could j
hurt You! What are YOU doing out
here in the rain? Can't you get in?
is this your home2" --l- -
: ''T sleep here" sighed the little finite.
'You mustn't do so, your mother will
be angry. Did yOu run away? Shall L
pull the knOcker for your"
No. Do you Know where my moth
'NO. Don't you?" -sti
mo; she left me the other day just
round the corner there. / looks for
her every day till dark, then L comes
here aud sleeps. Will you tell? The
perlice doesn't catch me in this place
Aud the tiny voice retreated.
Where did your mother go?" recon-
menced the questioner.
30 get US hunk of bread. / wish
she'd come soon, I'm SO hungry"
~ HAS she been gone long?"
''Oh, how longlP vaG
Have you eaten nothing since?"
Every day an old woman that keeps
one of them stalls there gives me an APP
pie, and l sing her song; and some
!. times size gives me cake, too, but
that's when she's had a drop, you
know. v-- -
''Come with me-" he said,s ST will
give you both.5' 5sfae / 1T,
He held out his hand. In an instant
she had sprung from the niche and
clung 10 it. Two dHlk, starry eyes flash
ed up to him their sad appeal. Sur
prlsed TO find her sO small, he lifted
and carried her in his arms. This was
what Philip Arne picked up.
She might have been seven when
this occurred.
But. now. what shall / call you?"
he asked, one day. 'Lichen, because
found You growing on a stone? or
SAINT? Tor yOn were In a niche"
She chose Saint.
In the long, lonesome day, while he