Weekly Trinity journal., 1875-09-18

Signor Pazzani, and he volunteered. 1t
was too good OF him They're TO stay
with me-"
"Oh, not both of them, Mrs King;
one's enough with all your care. Send
one here" said Mrs Brooks.
"Woll. | should bo glad to, really.
III send you the signor. Now, Jessie,
sing The harp that once through Tara's
halls, just as il you was ON the platform,
and we were all down on tho seats before
YOU"
And so Jessie sang it and her voice
swelled out as if young sybil sang, with
the words:
Thus Freedom now SO seldom wakes
The only throh she gives
Is whom some hcart indignant breaks,
To show that still she lives"
And the minister's wife crod and went
home.
One afternoon next week Madame
Reuter- came down and Mrs. King bro't
the Signor Pazzani into the Brooksos'
parlor and left him.
1t was not much preparation that the
Brookses were able TO make for their
distinguished guest; they could only I'LL
his room full to overAowirg with Bellies
flowers, that grew and blossomed in every
window the Winter long, AS for their
table, it was always miracle of snow
and silver and parsley trimmed dishes,
and it was impossible for them to make
much difference. They found, though,
that il was of no consequence, for the
signor was Indifferent to everything but
bread and fruit and salad, and presently
looked about him for tho young lady who
was to sing. You are she, ho said
presently to Jessie, and began talking
with her about her music, while he cgum
blcd his bread. But it was not till some
, hours after they left the table that ho
t came down from his room and demanded
t to hear what she could do.
Poor Jessie had no moro idea of hcsitat-
ing or refusing than If an angel of annun-
I citation had appeared and bidden her.
She went instantly to tho piano, though
Belle ran before to play the accompani-
! ment. Belle had TO play tho prelude
G twice over, though, before Jessie could
Q command her voice and in the first
!, measure il trembled so that she was
afraid she would have to stop, and She
0 was as pale ms death Courage, cour-
= age, my child" and she took n little and
0 went on; and soon she forgot tho signor
+ and her fright, and was singing as freely
$ Ms bird in the wild wood. "ltis grand
II 1t is delicious I" cried the signor in his
= own tongue, which Jessie and Belle un'
n dcrstood tolerably. "lt is a voice in u
/. thousand. In II thousand 4 voice il
Q millions 1t is tho nightingalo's aud il
: must have caro-, study, training Italy =
/ Jessie shook her head aud folt very
q much like crying. She knew if sho ever
: showed the least desire for Italy her father
would crnmp himself, her mother forego
1 her comforts the children deny them
, selves everything; they would sell tho
, piano, move into meaner house, live
on little, give nothing away. She had
|, never intimntcd that she thought the
t thing worth while. Now she shook her
= head and vontured to say in sdch Italian
6 as she had, at is impossible. Please
{ don't speak of it; it would only make
& grief here But thank you for tho kind
y words"
r Aud then the signor gazed hard at the
I I. ~ NuI,nua- lin ,Un1
0 and its grent soft dark eyes, and said :
r Nothing is impossible. Now | must
seek my violin. 1t was to come by ex-
! press, but has not, the good housemother
D says"
5 No; it had not come, and what was
J. more, it would not come in It's old shape.
!. The express had met with an accident
h and all its contents had been shattered.
II The violin that tho Queen of Holland had
o gwen Sgnor Pazzani, that jacques
r Stainer had made himself in the Tyrol
S two hundred years ago and more, was
nothing but handful of chips.
y 1t would have been ludcrous, II 1t had
: not been in reality narrowing, TO see the
Q signor's grief aud rage when he heard OF
4 the destruction of his darling, aud had
| the broken bits put into his hand. lie
remcm berod nothing moro about Jossio's
voice, about the evening concert; ho snt
down among the fragments like Marus
, in the ruins of Carthage, and bewailed
himself.
1t was an intensely cold and still Win
tors day; there was not sound to be
/ heard in the village, save now and then
t a distant sleigh bell, the dropping of some
! huge iciclo, or the loud report Of some
, nail us 1t sprung with the frost in tho
, rafters. As the sgnor sat there now with
| the broken voluto OF his violin in his left
hand, and the other hand wound in his
hair distractedly, one of these nails went
off us you might say, with more of an OK
plosion than usual upon the frosty silence
of the afternoon, followed by n clear, res
onant note that for half momeut seemed
to fll the house with silvery vibration.
They all heard it and looked up bewil-
dered; and suddenly Jessie, with joyous
cry, sprang TO her feet and darted from
the room. The garret door had been left
open by somebody, she found. In mo-
ment she was back, and had placed in
the hands Of the signor, whose moody III
Of frenzy had been succeeded by ono of
silent desperation, the little black fiddle.
at fell from Its nail" she was saying.
, "It wanted to como and comfort you,
you see. Il it good for anything? Can
you mend your own with it? 1t Is 50
/ old 20