The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1874-08-16
How Two Immortala Met.

CucTo WAS To U0 announcer or
those great musical jubilees for which the
capital of Bohemia was noted during the
Last century, AMI fram every direction,
jOurneyed thither, artists and laymep,
either to participate in the exercises, or to
listen. Already, on the day before the
fete, the inns-large and small-of the city
proper, were overfiiled, and the landlords,
desirous as they were to profit by the oc
casioD, could not do other than turn away
the later arrivals. Many were, therefore,
compelled to seek lodgings in the taverns
of the suburbs, which were usually patron
lied by people of the lower orders. A young
mana "pianist," said his passport-frem
ings in all the hotels of the city, without
success, and finally decided to go to an inn
in one of the suburbs, where be was told
he would probably find very comfortable
quarters and very good fare. The youth
was received by a landlord of a very surly
mieD, who, after measuring him from head
to foot with forbidding glance, replied
that he could not accommodate him, she
was full ~ But there was pretty young
serving girl within hearing, who did not
seem at all afraid of the cross grained old
landlord, and ventured to differ with him.
eyes, We can accommodate the gentleman,
too," said she. "There will be no one in
will be in the city. It's very easy to
make up bed for the gentleman there"
ssDo SO, for all care" muttered the
landlord, and turned away.
The young pianist decided to remain, as
the girl assured him that she would see he
was made comfortable, and that the land
lord was not really half SO much
bear as he seemed. She now fastened to
prepare the evening meal, and the young
musician in the meantime repaired to the
large room that was destined to be his bed
room for the night. AS the usual evening
guests were not expected, the room had
not been lighted but the moon shone
enable the youth to see his way, although
indistnctly. In one corner he discovered
a sofa, on which he threw himself in order
to rest his weary limbs while waiting sup
per. He had been there but few minutes
when the door opened and a man entered,
who walked to the farther and darker end
of the room, with certainty of step that
showed he was not a stranger to the apart
ment. A minute afterward, the youth
heard the tones of piano-at fret a few
accords, then melody, wild melody,
that might have been likened to q chorus of
Angels. The youth partially rose from
the sofa, and listened as one who would
catch the faintest sound. How radiant was
every feature of his face with ecstatic de.
light This improvisation, this heavenly
improvisation, seemed to transport him
into another and higher sphere There
was but one-only one-who could produce
such harmony, and to see and hear him
He rose and walked on tiptoe over toward
the piano, in order, if possible, to see the
performer. The tones grew softer and
softer, and they finally died away,
The finale was ,divinely beautiful, and
held the youthful enthusiast spell-bouad
until the master himself reused him from
his reverie. The latter, when he had fin-
iabaH nlQvinr- went toward thR aOfo
and threw himself upon it apparently ia
tigued. AS the light of the moon fell on
his face, the youth saw he had before him
an elderly man of a peculiarly noble and
benevolent mien. Seeing that he had not,
as yet, been observed, an idea suddenly oc-
Cured to him, and he seated himself noise
lessly at the piano. Again the instrument
was made to utter it's sweetest tones, and
the man on the sofa listened in profound
admiration. He saw no one, but lie heard,
and what he heard was sufficient to rIvet
his entire attention. How pure the tones
come from this master hand, the listener
on the sofa quickly discovered. The joys
of youthful heart seemed to find utterance
in the first accords of the young musician.
Then, gradually, the tones became deeper,
the passions and trials of a large, struggling
nature, spoke in full and sorrowful accerds,
until they became the cry of bitter despair.
What music it was The older musician
clasped his hands across his breast and lis
tened with his whole soul. He knew of
but one composer who was capable OF pro-
ducipg such music. and it was mainly in
the hope of meeting him that he had come
to the fete. He was confident the virtuoso
before him must be he, and he only. Fin
ally, he arose and noiselessly approached
tho piano, until he stood behind the per-
former, who was so absorbed that he Meth.
err saw nor heard him. At last, he too,
ceased playing. He struck the last accord,
and sank back exhausted. At that mo-
ment hand was laid gently on his shout
der, while another took him by the arm
and led him toward the window, where the
light of the moon would fall full upon his
face. An elderly man, his eyes beaming
with delight, gazed at him moment and
then cried, in tone that betrayed deep
emotion ''Mozart! :" "Haydn :" respond
ed the young man, in an accent not less
joyous.
Thus met, for the first time, these two
immortal composers, whose greatest wish
had LONG hean to know each other.