The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1872-06-28
Young Folks.
Tho BOY Orgnnlsi.


Mozart's first experience of u large
organ was In the monastery of little
town on the banks Of tho Danube. He
was then only six years old, and in
company with his father had left his
home in Salzburg, and started upon
long course of travel. All day long
they had been sailing down that ma
jestic river, past crumbling ruins, frown.
ing castles, cloisters hidden away among
the crags, towering cliffs, quiet villages
nestled in sunny valleys, and here and
there deep gorge that opened back
from the gliding river, its hollow
distance blue with fathomless shadow,
and its loneliness and stiffness stirring
the boy's heart like some dim and vast
cathedral.
The company of monks with whom
they had been travelling that day were
at supper in the refectory Of the cloister,
when father Mozart took Wolfgang
into the chapel to see the organ.
And now as the boy gazed with some
thing of awe upon the great instru-
ment, looming up in the shadows of
the great empty church, his face lit up
with serene satisfaction and every mo-
ton and attitude of the little figure ex
pressed wondering reverence. What
tones must even now be slumbering in
those mighty pipes? Tones, which, If
once awakened, could give utterance to
all that voiceless beauty which the
days scenes had showed him-life and
death present and past; the peaceful
river and the deserted ruin the sun
shine unfaillng and the unfailing shadow
| at its side.
"Father," said the boy, "explain to
me those pedals at the organs feet, and
let me play?"
Well pleased, the father complied.
Then Wolfgang pushed aside the stool,
and when father Mozart had filled the
great bellows, the elfln organist stood
upon the pedals, and trod them as
though he had never needed to have
their management explained.
How the deep tones woke the somber
stiffness of the old church! The organ
seemed some great uncouth creature,
roaring for very joy at the caresses of
the marvellous child.
The monks, eating their supper in
the refectory, heard the tones and
dropped knife and fork in astonish-
ment. The organist of the brother
hood was among them but never had
he played with such power and freedom.
They listened some grew pale; others
crossed themselves; till the prior rose
up, summoned all his courage, and
fastened into the chapel. The others
followed but when they looked up into
the organ loft, 10! there was no form
of any organist to be seen, though the
deep tones still massed themselves in
new harmonies, and made tho stone
arches thrill with their power. SIT is
the devil himself" cried the last one of
the monks, drawing closer to one of his
companions, and giving sacred look
ovor his shoulders into the darkness of
the aisle.
"It is miracle!" said another. But
when the oldest of their number mount
ed the stairs to the organ front, he stood
as if petrified with amazement.
There stood the tiny figure, tread
ing from pedal to pedal, and at the
same time clutching the keys above
with his little hands, gathering hand
fuls of those wonderful chords as if they
were violets, and flinging them out
into the solemn gloom behind him. He
heard nothing, saw nothing, besides
his eyes beamed like stars, and his
whole face lighted with impassioned
joy. Louder and fuller rose the har-
monies, streaming forth in swelling bill
lows, till at last they seemed to reach
a sunny shore, on which they broke;
and then whispering ripple of faintest
melody fingered moment in the air,
like the last murmur of wind harp,
and all was still.