Ellsworth American., 1865-06-16


= is unattainableT You arc right, Fred
erich,' was her reply. and yet some
times when am playing, l wish that fol
onoc in my life | night hear some really
good music and fine performance. Bu
it is of no use-no usc.' There wa
something very touching in the tone o.
these last words, and in the manner o
their repetition. Beethoven looked a
, me. let us 60 in he said hurriedly.-
60 in" | exclaimed. 'lIow can We &C
in, what can We 90 in for?' Il will play
; to her, he said in the same excited tone
Here is feeling--gcnius-u understanding
[ will play to her and she will appreciate
it' And before | could prevent him
his hand was upon the door. 1t was only
latched, and instantly gave way so | fol.
lowed him through the dark passage to
half opened door at the right of the en-
trance, which he pushed open and enter.
ed. 1t was bare comtortless apartment
; with small stove at one end, and scant-
tiy furnished. A pale young man was
sitting by the table, making shoes, and
near him leaning sorrowlully on an old
, fashioned harpsichord, sat a young girl,
with profusion OF light hair falling over
her bent face. Both were clcanly but
very poorly dressed, and both started and
turned toward Ms as we entered. Par
don me- said Beethoven, somewhat EN-.
barrassed 'Parpon me-but-but l
heard music aud was tempted to enter
| am musician The girl blushed, and
the young man looked grave-somewhat
annoyed. il also overheard some.
thing Of what you said continued my
friend. You wish to hear--that is, you
would like-th 1t is--shall | play for
you? There was something so odd, so
whimsical, so brusque in the whole affair,
and something SO pleaaant and eccentric
in the manner Of the speaker, that the ice
seemed broken in moment, and all
smiled involuntarily. 'Ihank you said
the shoemaker but our harpsichotd is
wretched, aud We have no music. No
music echoed my friend, 'how then does
the fraulein-' He paused ana colored up
for the girl looked full at him, and i'll
the dim melancholy gaze of those cloudel
eyes, he saw that she was blind. IL
cntrcat your pardon he stammercd but
had not perceived before Then you
play from ear? 'Entirely' and where
do YOU hear music since you frequent no
concerts? p i used to hear lady prac-
Using near us when We lived at BruhI
two years ago. Daring the summer eve-
Mn Is her window was generally open, and
| walked two and fro out side, to listen to
her. 'Aad you have never heard any
music housekeeping street music.
She seemed shy, so Beethoven sad no
more, but seated himself quietly before
the piano, and began to play. lie had
no sooner struck the first chord than
knew what would follow-how grand he
would be that night, And was not mis-
taken Never, never, during all the years
| knew him, did hear him play as he
tt.en played to that blind girl and her
brother! Never heard | such FIRE, sucn
passionate tenderness. such ntiua grada-
tions Of melody and moduatons lie
was inspired, and the instan, his fingers
began to wander along the keys, the very
tones Of the instrument seemed to grow
sweeter and more equal. Breathlcss and
cntranccd, We sat listening. The broth
cr and sister we're silent with wonder
and rapture. The former laid aside his
work, the latter with her hands pressed
tightly over her breast, crouchei down
near the end Of the piano, as if fearful
lesteven the beating Of her heart should
break the flow Of those magical sweet
sounds. it was as if We were all bound
in Il strange dream and only feared to
wake Suddenly the fl ne OF the single
candle waycred, sunk, hickered and went
out. Beethoven paused, and | threw
open the shuttcts admitting hoed oil
brilliant moonlight. 4he room was al
most as light as before and the illumi-
nation fell strongest on the piano and the
player. But tire chain et IDEAS seemed
to h ave been broken by the accident -
His head dropped upon his breast-his
hands rested upon his knces--hc seemed
in meditation. 1t was thus for some
time. At length the young shoemaker
rose, aud approaching him eagerly, yet
revcrantly-'W onderiul man., he said IN
Il low tone, who aud what are you p
Beethoven lifted his head and looked up
at him vaeantly, as if unconscious Of the
meaning Of his words. lie repeated the
question The composer smiled as he
only could smile, bcnevolently, indulgcnt-
ly, kindly. 'Listenn y he said, and he
played the opening bars of the symphony
in f. A cry Of delight and recognition
burst from thc lips OF both, and excaim.
ing, Then you are Beethoven covered
his hande with tears and kisses. lie
rose to 90, but they held him back with
entreatcs. Play to US once more--only
once more?' he suffered himself to be led
back to the instrument. The moon shone
brightly in through the curtaialess win
dow, and lit up his glorius rugged head
and massive figure. Il will improvise a
sonata to the moonlig ight, said he hall play
fully. lie looked up thoughtiully for a
few minutes to the sky and stars-then
his hands dropped to the keys. and he
began playing low sad, and infinitely
lovely movement, which crcpt over the
instrument TIA sweet AMI level beauty
like the calm low Of moonlight over the
dark earth.
This delicious opening was followed by
a wild elm passage in triple time-a sort
of grotesque irterlude, like dance OF
sprites upon the midnight sward, Then
oaroo a ,;n ,aototo fDoIo-, hraa III loss