Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1875-08-05

the destruction of his darling, and had the
broken bits put into his hand He remem-
bered nothing more about Jessie's voice,
about the evening concert; he sat down
among the fragments, like Marius in
the ruins of Carthage, and bewalled him
| self.
1t was an intensely cold and still win
ter's day; there was not sound to be
heard in the village save now and then
| distant sleigh-bell, the dropping of some
huge icicle, or the loud report of some
nail as it sprung with the frost in the
rafters. As the signor sat there now with
the broken volute Of his violin in his left
hand, and the other hand wound in his hair
dlstractedIy, 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 a clear, resonant
note that for half a moment seemed to fill
the house with a silvery vibration. They
all heard it, and, looked up bewildered;
! and suddenly Jessie, with a joyous cry,
! sprang to her feet and darted from the
|
| by. somebody, she found In moment
! she was back and had placed in the hands
! of the signor, whose mood of frenzy had
| been succeeded by one of silent despera-
ton, the little black fiddle. 5a
Itfell from its nail" she was saying.
| 9 1t was that we heard It wanted to
come and comfort you, you see. Is it
| good for anything? Can you mend your
own with it? 1t is so oldr'
Why doyou bring me this, my child?''
he asked, sadly, but took it, and ran his
eye over it. Something seemed to strike
him as he did so. He bent his head
| quickly, lifted the violin to his ear, and
| tapped it and listened, ran his finger down
its lines, took out his handkerchief and
busted it infinitely. His hands began to
shake; he was holding his breath; he was
| comparing the measurements of the little
black fiddle with certain figures in a mem
orandum-book drawn from his pocket.
He peered into its every dimension in a
sort Of mad haste. He took magnifier,
| and then with bit of channels leather be-
gan 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, readl Soto la discapZina
d a. Stradjpar5als, Cremona. 7. II. 81
! 1t is his, the Giuseppe del Jesus, when
| the great Antoine was his master. That is
| his seal, that l. II. S. Oh, the rogue!
| But he knew music! And Antoine Stradi-
varius 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 strings? 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
YETI .e II, .,y.. ..... Er.r
He was silent in a long but hurried I'M
rolling and fastening of strings, an end
less tuning and hearkening and tuning
again, and then the walls of the room
were vibrant about them, and Signor Paz-
zani was playing on the little black fiddle;
and the sweet powerful seniority, the
suave, silyery, intense tone, the mellow
but majestic strength were ringing in
their ears like the humming of swarm
of angels WINGS said the signor, sud
denly leaving off, with his bow in the air
All, look at it! What grace in the
| curves! how severe the volute how elias
| tic and bounding the tonel and the color!
How purple and rich and full of lusters it
will come out when [ shall restore it! Oh.
| shall restore it'' he cried, gayly, smiling
| on them one and all at will be mine;
you will not think of keeping it; you can
none of you play on it, he began to i'm
plore. cts a GUarnerius, the Giuseppe
del Jesus. 1t is worth money-it is worth
more; you shall have thousand, you
| shall have fifteen hundred, you shall have
| two thousand dollars for it!',
ooh, hush, indeed - cried Jessie. ''Of
course you shall have it, sir. 1t is value
less to us; it is yours!'
'Stay, stay moment, JESSIE" said her
father. The little black fiddle is mine
That poor old vagabond fallen from his
high estate, gave it to me. 1t is way
bread has of coming back upon the waters
after many days If the signor wants to
pay me thousand dollars for it we will
compass the other five hundred by our
selves, and you shall go to Italy, z
| And the next morning Signor Pazzani
went off with the little black fiddle tucked
| under his arm, and Mr.. Brooks went to
the city with him to secure Jessie's pas
sage in the next steamer that sailed for
foreign shores. And the little fiddle had
some share in it, after all.-Harper's b.
ear.
"DOOr-Steps."