Cedar Falls gazette. [volume] (Cedar Falls, Iowa) 1860-1895, 1865-12-01

of sunny France, in the age Of chival.
ry; of the latticed bowers of Spain, and
the rustic pipings that floated over Ty.
rolean hills, what were these to the pro-
sale citizens of" "Chepe?"
Yet the player did not droop, though
his etforts-and they were of feeble
skill-.excited little charity in the mul
titude. Again and again he resumed
the violin with treshened energy, until
his frame trembled with cold, and the
spirit of hope gradually retrcated before
despair. Then he swept the raven curls
from his brow, and while the night-dew
soddened into his frame, he bent des.
pondingly over the instrument
"No pity for thee, Mariana" III
muttered, tearfully;" 4" nothing to sooths
the agony and sweat of thy dying mo-
ments. All, why did we leave Italy -
"fou came from Italy?" said stran'
ger, approaching the poor musician.
Isl, signor," replied the player, anu
he looked imploringly upon his ques.
toner. I'VE are from the banks o
the bright Arno-my sister and I, sig.
nor; and the death stroke Is on her. o
help mc-help me for the sake of Mari
ana! ~ ... b. 5s
Mariana!" exclaimed the stranger
with a sudden start. ..a
So wild aud agitated had his yhol.
countehance grown at the mention OF
the name, that flash of lightning
could scarcely have Illuminated his fea.
lures with more fiery lustre.
The musician gazed earnestly on the
form before him, but saw nothing to
explain the interest it had excited. The
stranger was slight, even to atteuua.
ton; his hair hung down his shoulders
| I'm thick masses; and it was not until
he turned from the pale, meagrc check
to the black eyes and olive complexion
that the gazcr recognized some of the
traits 6. countryman.
=" see it now, signor," said tho mu.
sician; "yOu are from Italy; you, toe
have dwelt In my beautiful Florence
beside the Arno. Is it not so?o
have was the faltered reply.
"Ah, then you know how sad it is t.
languish for home, when oceans roll be-
tween the foot and It's native soil. And
she," continued the musician, "sht
raves of the skies of Italy i'm the delir
ium Of her parting soul, our poor strick
en- Mariana. You start at that name
signor!"
at recalls" said the stranger, "ar
echo of youth, a forgotten dream-let i
pass"
His thin white hands wandered ove1
his face as IL to shut out the world for :
moment, or hide some fleeting emotion
But you are in want he added af
ter a pause; "thcn / will aid you fol
the love of Italy-dnd Of Mariana"
And, as the last words crept from his
| lips, in the faintcst whisper, he took the
violin from the musicians hand, and
slouehing his hat over his eyes, assum-
ed n position beside him on the curb.
| With something of astonishment, but
more of the listless air of despair, the
| poor player yielded without remark.
Aud the stranger wiped the damp mist
! from the strings, and tuned the instru-
mcnt ufresh, until at last all was pre-
| pared. Then it fell into the hollow OF
his breast, he raised the magic stick
with triumphant gesture, ana a burst
OF impetuOus harmony came like a tor
rent upon the bystanders. .....
Ah, all! /! the spirit of music has found
It's master genius now. Itguails before
him; IL opens its richest harmonics
with the hand of n prodigal. Like the
low wall of an infants lamentation,
like the joyous laugh of an Italian laz-
Zarono, like the soft whisper Of maid
en- who tells her love, like the mournful
sigh for one loved but lost, steal the
golden notes from the Cremona. Every
passion has found voice; every tho't
of love, or war, or restlessness, or peace,
now flashes from the strings in cadences
Of unearthly skill. ....
And Orpheus has charmed the mani
mate things of clay. First one and
then another palises to listen in bewil-
derment, and the few became many,
and the poor musicians hat grows
heavy with the coins that pour in.--
Little sympathy had the multitude
with his sorrow or famine; but they
pay in now, as they would o successful
mountebank, and he acknowledges it
with greatful tears.
Suddenly the stranger, who had given
no symptoms of surprise at his success,
came to a pause. He returned the yiO-
lin to the player, arrested public We
hicle that was passing, and motioned
his comrade to enter.
Whittier will you lead me now 2"
asked the musician as they hurried
through the crowd.
"TO Mariana!" replied the stranger,
and they drove silently away.
Following the direction pointed out
by the musician, they threaded their
devious track throughout the maze of
the great city. And far from the haunts
of wealth, in q narrow, lonely street,
where the darkness was d0ubly drear,
their conveyance drew up, and the mu-
sician alighted, followed by the stran-
ger.
They found admission by q key which
the tenant produced, and mounted the
crazy stairs for some distance. Atlength
the musician stopped at chamber
door. He listened, but all was STILL
Some anguish shook him some dread
to encounter the misery within made
him tremble; but, at a signal from the
stranger, he opened the door and they
stole noislessly into the apartment.
it required no second glance to tell
that it was the chamber Of the dying.
There was character about the disar-
ray in which everything was scattered
there was charncl breath i'm the at
that hung around the lowly
couch, which spoke, in plainest lam
guage, Of the grave. ~
The musician drew aside the curtains
20 that the light of the lamp fell upon
the occupant of tho bed, revealing fc-
male form of rarest beauty. The ap-
proach Of death had reft no charm from
that matchless counteaance, which
seemed to have gathered up its lustre
In one expiring flash Of loveliness !; but |
the long dark hair streamed in ebony
along the pillow, and the eyes
were closed with the exhaustion that
pain. lsTI#a sd
"She sleeps" said the poor musician,
kneeling beside her; /" and her dreams
are not Of this world, for she SCENE
happy"