The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1870-12-01

would ok, aud no .ons could answer,
not even myself. a..
Wandered about tho rectory in the
summer evenings and heard her sing;
tried to get the old gardener to let
me help him carry the watering pots,
and when I succeeded, felt, as I enter
ed the rector's garden, that I was en-.
tering . paradise. o happy months,
when, after the horrible labors Of the
weary day, I used to follow the old
gardener, and hear her sing. My old,
withered heart beats fuller and freer
when the memory comes back to me
now.
Alas alas my awkwardness again
banished me. She met me one even.
ing in the garden, as I was coming
along the path with my cans full Of
water, and spoke to me, and said,-
"You're the boy that broke tho vase,
aren't you 2"
l did not, could not reply; my
strength forsook me. I dropped my
cans on the ground, where they upset
and foated away in a moment some
seeds on which the rector set most
especial store. .'>%".'
GLOW awkward, to DO suro !" she
exclaimed. "And how angry uncle
will be-"
I turned aud fed, and from that
time the rectory gate vas closed against
me.
I led a miserable, unhappy life for.
the next three years; I had only @'one
consolation during the whole Of that
weary time. I saw her At church and
heard her aipg there. I could fear
nothing elss waeu she sang, clear and
distinct, above the confused nasal
sounds that came from the voices Of
Others hers alone, pure, sweet, and
good. It was blessed time. would
not miss Sundays service in church
for all that might offer: Three good
miles every Sunday there and back did
I heavily plod to hear her, and fell
we'll rewarded. I shared her joys aud
heaviness. knew when she was ha,
py, when oppressed as a mother
knows the tones of her child's voice, to
the minutest shade of difference, so
could tell when her heart was light aud
when sad.
One Sunday she sang as have nev-
yet heard her, not loudly, but so tan
derly, 50 lovingly, I knew the change
had come,-she loved; it thrilled in
her voice; and at the evening service
he was there. I saw him. A soldier.
1 knew by bis bearing, with cruel hard,
gray eyes; and she sang, I knew it. I
detected gratitude in the notes. I
felt she was the sufferer, As I suffered ;
no: chat sang. had no voice. A harsh,
! gutteral sound was all that could give
utterauco to. I could whistle like bird,
and often and often have lain for hours
in the shade of tree and ioined tho
concerts OF the woods.
One day 1 was whistling, az was my
wont, as I went through the streets,
when I was tapped On the sho1lder, by
an old man, the cobbler Of the next
parish. I knew him from bis coming
to my father for leather occasionally.
"Sam, where did you learn that ?"
"Learn what?"
"That tune"
CAT church."
"You've good car, Sam"
"I've nothing else good, but I can
whistle anything"
"Can you whistle me the Morning
Hymn"
"Good; very coed. Know anything
Of music, Sam p
"Nothing." g.
"Like to ?" .
"l'd give all I have in the world to
be able to play anything. My soul is
full Of music. l can't sing a note, but
I. could play anything if I we're
taught" =:
$50 you shall; Sam, my boy. Come
home with. me. Garry these skim, and
you shall begin at once" -
f I went home with him, aud found
that he was one Of tho players in the
ehoir Of his parish; his instrument be-
ing the violineello: I took my frat les-
son, and FROM that time commenced 4
new life. Evening after evening, and
sometimes during the day / wandered
over to his little shop, ard while he
sat, stitch, stitch, at the boots and
shoes, ), I played over and over again all
the music I could get from the church.
"You've beautiful lingering, Sam
my boy, beautiful, and though it does
look . little awkward to see you bowipg
away with your left, it makes no differ
ence to you. You ought to be fne
player, SAM"
7 I was enthusiastic, but I was poor
I wanted an instrument Of my own, but
I had no money, aud I earned none-1
could earn none. M, parents thought,
and perhaps justly, !that if they found
me food and clothing I was we'll provi-
we'd for, and so for some twelve months