Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1881-04-21

lie TO his declaration OF shakiness. 'Of
course | realize that you and your gal
liant brother here have rendered me a
great service-one for which you shall
not go unrewarded. although | can
never hope to fully recompense you
Lizzie raised her head haughtily.
Sir, such work as we have done to-
night we do not for wages. II you feel
strong enough will walk with you to
the house. think the storm is pass
ing over. We live a quarter Of mile
from the light. Our accommodation
are plain enough, but there is no other
house on the island.
oh, / am just as good as new now,
said Mcintyre; but will you leave this
boy here all alone 2
She smiled.
Ned is not afraid, and he can tend
the light as we'll as J.
Very well, will go with you.'
He waived a smiling adieu to the
boy and followed his guide down the
narrow stairway.
Two days later small sail boat put
out from the island, which, when it re-
turned, brought Allen McIntyre's lug
gage.
Lizzie's father, who was then laid up
with an attack of rheumatism, had taken
fancy to the young man, who e1.
pressed desire to spend few weeks
there at any price they might charge
Captain Clyde straightway ordered
Neddie off in his new boat to the main
land for the gentlemans traps. The
youugster obeyed this order with alac-
rity, for the good humored ease of
the stranger, together with his evident
appreciation of our Liz,' had wrought
favorably on our Neddie. Even the
maiden aunt, who kept the house,
smiled frostily at the prospect of this
pleasant addition to their family.
Mcintyre, who had been wandering
about three or four hundred miles from
home in search of quiet place to spend
the summer, congratulated himself on
having drifted to the very place.
Although it was very expensive
style OF drifting he remarked, with a
smile, as he enclosed oank note in an
envelope to be sent to the owner of the
little craft which had slipped him out
into the waves abreast of the light
house.
A week later as he was sauntering
shoreward, there came to his ears a
wildly sweet strain of melody. AS he
listened in amazement, for he had seen
no musical instrument about the place,
he began to realize that it was a part
of Strauss Artist Life waltzes that he
heard-a strain that he often whistled
He stepped around the jutting of a cliff
and there, leaning against the granite
wall, was Lizzie. her chin dropped care
lessly on little red violin, as she drew
the bow across the strings. She had
flushed like guilty thing when she
saw Mcintyre.
You whistled that the other day,
she faltered, and | liked it so much-it
haunted me all the time.
He stepped forward.
why, Lizzie Is it possible you
play like that without notes p
4 don't play much now she said
drawing her dark brows over her eyes
"A party of ladies and gentlemen came
here to visit the lighthouse once and
overheard me playing. l heard one Of
the ladies say, The idea of girl with
fiddle : So I thought perhaps il
didn't look we'll
Not look we'll, indeed Y and he
laughed in merry scorn. why, my
dear child, did you ever hear Of Camil
la Urso :?
No
We'll, she Is lady, and she makes
the most exquisite music on fiddle
and thousands of people go to heal
her. Why, Camilla Urso hersel
would listen with pleasure to your mu
sic, LIZZIE said Mcintyre, extrava
gantly. who taught you to play :?
No one This violin belonged tt
my father. and he learned ME how tt
{ tune it. pick up tunes that | hear
but | never heard anything half Sc
beautiful as the tunes | hear you sins
and whistle.
Mcintyre smiled; his repertoire O.
music consisted of snatches of operas
waltzes, redowas and German airs
, which had dimly associated in hi
mind with nights Of brilliant gayety
and he wondered dreamily how this
pure minded, healthy-souled girl woulc
look upon the elegant dissipation car
ried on by the set of which he was thu
favorite. \ sudden glow warmed hi
; heart as he thought that not one of tht
fine ladies who had swung languidly
: through the mazes Of that very walt;
of the great composers could have res
cued him so bravely from the jaws o
death as Lizzie had--Lizzie, who stooc
there so quietly, with her little violil
; hanging from her breast, and her fing
} ers straying lovingly over the strings
Tell me about Camilla Urso,' sh'
said, presently. Did you ever hea
} her play ?
Yes, indeed | have a paper in m.
trunk containing little sketch Of he
life, which you may read for yourself
and which will tell You better than
can of her talent.