Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1874-04-15

was born in London | believe, and was
only four years old when his father brought
him TO this country, less than three years
ago. Since that time he has appeared 10
concerts and various entertainments in many
Of our principal cities, attracting unusual
attention by bis musical skill. | confess
however, that had not heard Of him until
last month but since then | do not think
DAY has passed when this child's face has
not arisen up inm my memory,-tho little, half
sad face. as | saw il once, with is large Sc.
rious eyes and its infantile mouth.
One morning last January, when told
Charley and Talbot, at the breakiast-table,
that Prince Rupert and his Court had come
TO town,
Some in Jag,
Some In rags,
And some In velvet gowns"
the news was received with great glee, as
you may imagine for this meant that we
were to 20 to the play.
1 am not going to tell you much about
the play.
What interested me most, and what
pleased Charley aud Talbot even beyond the
Naiad Queen herself, was the little violin
ist who came to the German Court and
played before Prince Rupert and his bride.
1t was such a little fellow lie was
not more than a year older than my own
boys, and much taller lie had a sweet,
sensitive face, with large grey eyes, in which
there was deep settled expression which
do not like to see in a child. Looking at
his eyes alone, you would have said he was
sixteen or seventeen, and he was merely q
baby
do not know enough Of the music to as.
sert that he had wonderful genius, or &C.
MUS at all but it seemed to me he played
charmingly, and with the touch of a natural
musician. thought The Last Rose Of
Summer" the sweetest strain Of music in
the world, as it hoated up from the small
violin.
At the end Of his piece, he was lifted
over the foot-lights Of the stage into the
orchestra, where, with the conductors stick
10 his hand, he directed the band in playing
one or two airs. In this he showed a care
fully trained ear and perfect understand.
ing Of the music.
wanted to hear the little violin again
but as he made his bow to the audience and
ran off, it was with half.wearied air, and
| did not join with my neighbors in calling
him back There's another performance
tonight" | said to myself, and the little
fellow isn't very strong" He came out
and bowed, but did not play again.
All the way home from the theatre my
children were full Of the little violinst
and as they went along, chatting and frol
licking in front Of me, and getting undei
my feet like couple of young spanies,
could not help thinking how different tn,
poor little musicians lot was from theirs
lie was only six years and half old, ant
had been before the public nearly three
years. What hours Of toll and wearines
he must have passed through at the very
time when my little ones were being rocked
and petted and shielded from every ungentl,
wind that blows. And what an exstenc,
was his now ,-trayeling from city TO city
practicing at every spare moment, and per
forming, night after night, in some clos,
theatre or concert room, when he SHOULD
be drinking in that deep, refreshing Stun
Der which childhood needs. However muct
he was loved by those who had charge o
him,--and they must have treated hin
kindly,-it was hard life for the child
He ought to have been turned out int,
the sunshine; that pretty violin--one cal
easily understand that he was found of i
himself-ought to have been taken ava,
from him, and kite string placed in hi
hand instead If God had set the germ Q
a great musician or a great composer i
that slight body, surely it would have bee
wise to let the precious gift ripen and howe
in its own good time.
This is what thought, walking home
the glow Of the wintry sunset but my boy
saw only the bright side Of the picture, an
would have liked nothing better than
change places with little james Speaigh
To stand in the midst of Fairylanl and pla
beautiful tunes on toy fiddle while all Il
people clapped their hands,-what cou
quite equal that
The next morning at the breakfast tabl
when opened the newspaper, which is Q
ways laid beside my plate, the first par
graph my eyes fell upon was this;
a." James speaight, the infant violinist, di
in this city late on Saturday night. At t
matinee of the Naiad Queen, on the aiterno
of that day, when little James Speaight cal
off the stage, after giving his usual violin p,
Torrance, Mr.. Shewell noticed that he appear
iatigued, and asked if he felt i'll. lie repli
that he had pain in his heart, and then N
Shewell suggested that he remain away fro
the evening performance. lie retired gu
early, and about midnight his father heard b
say, Gracious God, make room for anOtI
huie child IN Hedpen.' No sound was hea
after this, and his father spoke to him soon
forwards; he received no answer, but found
child dead
Was there ever anything sadder tn
that? The printed letters grew dim a
melted into each other as | tried to re
them again. | glanced across the table
Charley and Talbot, eating their breakfa
with the slanted sunlight from the wind
turning their curls into real gold, aud
had not the heart TO tell them what b
happened.
OF all the prayers that hoated up
heaven, that Saturday night, from the be
sides of sorrowful men and women, OF FRI
the cots of happy children, what accer
could have fallen more pitoousy and ter
erly upon the ear Of listening angel th
the prayer Of little james Speaight!
he hueW nc was uylng' ine laltn
had learned, perhaps while running at
mothers side, long ago, in some green Er
fish lane, came TO him then. He rene
bered ii was Christ vino said SUI
little children TO come unto me-" and I
beautiful prayer rose TO his lips "G
cious God, make room for another lit
child in Heaven"
folded up the newspaper silently, q
throughout the day did not speak bef
the boys of the little yiolinist's death
when the time came for our customary cl
in the nursery, | told the story to Char
and Talbot. | do not think they und
stand very WE'LL and still less they und
stand why | fingered so much longer ii
usual by their bedside that Sunday night
As / sat there 10 the dimly lighted roc
it seemed TO me that / could hear, 10
pauses Of the winter wind, family 4
doubtfully somewhere in the distance,
sound Of the little violin.
All, that little violin IA cherished r,
now. Perhaps it plays soft, plaintiye 1
all by itself, in the place where it is ke
missing the touch Of the babv fnoers vh