Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1875-09-08

"Oh, not both of them, Mrs. King;
ones enough, with all your care. Send
one here" said Mrs. Brooks.
"Well, l should be glad to, really.
I'll send you the signor. Now, Jessie,
sing The harp that once through Tara s
halls just as if you were on the plat
form, and We were all down ON the seats
before you"
And so Jessie sang it, and her voice
swelled out as if young sibyl sang,
with the words,
"Thus Freedom nov seldom wakes
| The only throb she gives
| In when some heart indignant breaks,
| To show that still she lives~
And the minister's wife cried and went
home.
| One afternoon next week Madame
Reuter- came down, and Mrs. King
brought the Signor Pazzani into the
BrOOkses' parlor, and left him.
1t was not much preparation the
BrOOkses had been able to make for
their distinguished guest, they could
only fill his room full to overfOwing
with Bellies flowers, that grew and
blossOmed in every window the winter
long. As for their table, it was always
a miracle of snow and silver and
parsely-trimmed dishes, and it was
impossible for them to make much
difference. They found, though, that
Ii was of no consequence, for the signor
was Indifferent to everything but bread
and fruit and salad, and presently looked
about him for the young lady who was
TO sing. "You are she," he said, pres
emily, to Jessie, and began talking with
her about her music while he crumbled
his bread But it was not till some
hours after they left the table that he
came down from his room and demanded
to hear what she could do.
Poor Jessie had no more idea of hesi-
tating or refusing than if an angel of
annunciation had appeared and hidden
her. She went instantly TO the piano,
though Belle ran before her to play the
accompaniment. Belle had to play the
prelude twice over, though, before Jes-
sic could command her voice; and i'm
the first measure it trembled so that she
was afraid she would have to stop, and
she was pale as death. Courage,
courage, my child" cried the signor,
and she took little and went on; and
soon she forgot the signOr and her
fright, and was singing as freely as
bird i'm the wild wood. sit is grand,
il is deliciousI" cried the signor, i'm his
own tongue, which Jessie and Belle
understood tolerably. 1T is voice i'm
thousand. In a thousandl A voice
in millions! 1t is the nightingale's!
and it must have care, study, training
Italyr'
Jessie shook her head and felt very
much like crying. She knew il she ever
showed the least desire for Italy, her
father would cramp himself, her mother
forego her comforts, the children deny
themselves everything; they would sell
the piano, move into a meaner house,
live on little, give nothing away. She
had never minated that she thought
the thing worth while. Now she shook
her head and ventured to say in such
Italian as she had. 1T is impossible.
Please don't speak of it; it would only
make grief here. But thank you for
the kind words"
And then the signor gazed hard at
the lovely face with its Madonna-like
oval, and its great soft dark eyes, and
said: "Nothing is impossible. Now
must seek my violin. 1t was to come
by express, but has not, the good house
mother says"
No; it had not come, and, what was
shape. The express had met with an
accident, and all its contents had been
shattered. The violin that the Queen
of Holland had given Signor Pazzani,
that Jacques Stainer had made himself
i'm the Tyrol two hundred years ago and
more, was nothing but a handful of
chips.
1t would have been ludicrous, if it had
haa,, i'm, iftv ha,-rAxx-i,.. m
the signor's grief and rage when he
heard of the destruction of his darling,
and had the broken bits put into his
hand. He remembered nothing more
about Jessie's voice, about the evening
concert; he sat down among the frag-
ments, like Marius I'm the ruins of Car
thage, and bewailed himself.
1t was an intensely cold and still
winters day; there was not sound to
be heard i'm the village, save now and
of some huge icicle, or the loud report
of some nail as it sprung with the frost
i'm the rafters. As the signOr sat there
now with the broken volute of his violin
i'm his left hand, and the other hand
wound i'm his hair distractedly, one of
these nails went off, as you might say,
with more of an explosion than usual
upon the frosty silence of the afternoon,
followed by clear, resonant note that
for half moment seemed to fill the
house with a silvery vibration. They
all heard il, and looked up bewildered; /; |
and suddenly Jessie, with joyous cry,
sprang to her feet and darted from the |
room. The garnet door had been leit
open by somebody, she found. In a
h. h.. haI ala
in the hands of the signor, whose mood
of frenzy had been succeeded by one Of
silent desperation, the little black fiddle.
at fell from its nail, she was saying. |
''It was that We heard. 1t wanted to |
come and comfort you, you see. Is it |
good for anything? Can you mend |
your own with itg Is il so old
"Why do you bring me this, my |
child" he asked, sadly, but took it, and |
ran his eye over it. Something seemed |
head quickly, lifted the violin to his ear |
and tapped it and listened, ran his fin
gers down its lines, took out mis- hand
kerchief and busted ii minutely His
hands began TO shake; he was holding |
his breath; he was comparing the mea-
surements of the little black fiddle with |
ctTldln uyuTts III HltfuOf auuuui-Dooh /
drawn from his pocket. He peered into
its every dimension in a sort of mad
haste. He took magnifier, and then |
with a bit of chamois leather began |
rubbing the end of the little black fiddle |
as if he were polishing jewel. All at
once he cried out:
aha, Behold it! 1t is here! Read |
it, my children, read! sSotto Ia disco
pima IL A. Strudicdrius, Cremona. HS.' |
Ii is his, the Giuseppe del Jesus, when
the great Antoine was his master.
That is his seal, Il ii s. Oh, the rogue
But he knew music! And Antoine
Stradivarius has had it in his hands;
has looked at its sides, its table, its
ouies, its lustrous varnish; has drawn
the bow across it; has said it was good!
Quick, where are my stringsI We
will see; we will see. There is no
bridge. That is all right. The bridge
would not have answered. My Stainer
bridge is whole vet"