The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1879-03-29


the final chords died away; noble music,
and soul in the playing. That man, Who
ever he may be, should have generous
heart"
Hush, grandfather" said the girl, "he
is beginning to play again."
Scarcely had the music commenced. how
ever, than the pair glanced at each other in
breathless surprise
Lilly, darling, do you hear what he is
playing?" said the old man in on excited
whisper.
"a strange coincidence" the girl re-
piled.
"Strangel 1t is more than strange!
Lily darling, who could play that song?"
The melody came to an end and all was
silence. There was moments pause, and
then, as if by q common impulse, the old
man drew his bow across the strings and
the girls sweet voice caroled forth the
second verse of the song.
Scarcely had they ended, when door
opened at the foot of the church tower Just
beside them, and Michael Fray, bare
headed, with his scanty locks blown about
by the wind, stood before them. He hur-
ried forward, and then stood still, shame
faced, bewildered. The song had called
up the vision of a gallant young sailor, full
of health, as Michael had seen his brother
for the last time ON the day when he sailed
on his fatal voyage. He had hurried forth,
forgetting the years that had passed, full
OF tender memories of happy, boyish days,
to find alas only a couple of wandering
beggars singing for bread.
II beg your pardon he said, striving
vainly to master his emotions; lyon sang
a song just now which-which-- song
which was a fayorito of dear friend of
mine many years ago. Will you-will you
tell me where you got IT,"
''By the best Of all titles, SIR" the old
fiddler answered, drawing himself up with
q touch Of artistic pride; Il wrote it my
self, words and music both
NAY, SIR" said Michael sternly "you
rob the dead. A dearly beloved brother
Of mine wrote that song some forty years
ago"
"Wen upon my 'word." said the old
fiddler, waxing wroth, ''then your brother
must have stolen it from me. What
might this precious brothers name be.
prayS"
''An honest name, a name I am proud to
speak, " said Michael, firing up in his turn;
''his name was Richard Fray!"
The old street musician staggered as
though he had received a blow.
What" he exclaimed, peering eagerly
into the others face; then you are my
brother Michael, for I am Richard Fray"
Half an hour later, and the brothers so
long parted, SO strangely brought together,
We're seated around roaring fire in Michael
Fray's quaint three-cornered parlor. Mich
aclS stores had been ransacked for warm,
dry clothing for the wanderers. Drawers
long closed, yielding wien opened, asweet
scent of lavender, and containing homely
skirts and bodces, kept still in loving
memory of little Nell gave up their treas
uras for Lily's benefit and Richard Fray's
snow-sodden clothes were replaced by
Michaels choicest coat and softest slip
pers.
The wanderers had done full justice to
plentiful meal, and jug of fragrant punch
now steamed on the hob and was laid un-
der frequent contributions, while Richard
Fray told the story of thirty years wander
ings, and the brothers found how it had
come to pass that, each thinking the other
dead, they had lived their lives, married,
and buried their dear ones-being some
times but few miles apart and yet a5 dis
tant as though severed by the grim diyider
himself.
And Lily sat on cushion at her grand
fathers feet, picture of quiet happiness;
and sang sweet songs to please two old
men, while Michael lovingly traced in her
soft features fanciful Gkepesses to his lost
Nellie, the strange similarity of the sweet
voices aiding the tender illusion.
And surely no happier family party was
gathered together in all England, that
Chrstmastde than the little group round
Michael Frays quiet 6reside.
''well, grandfather, dear" said Lily, af-
ter pause, won't you believe in miracles,
now2'
"My darling!" said the old man, his
voice broken with emotion, "God forgive
me for ever having doubted Him"