The Osceola times., 1881-11-19

Pretty bad" said the man.
Must feel pretty dry
The man looked at his steaming
clothes and laughed, as if Goskin's re.
mark was sarcasm.
How long out?'
-Four DAYS"
"Hungfy 2"
The man rose mp, and, walking
over to the lunch counter, fell to work
upon some roast bear, devouring il like
any wild animal would have done. As
meat and drink and warmth began to
permeate the stranger, he seemed to ex-
pand and tighten up. His features lost
their palor and he grew more and more
content with the idea that he was not in
the grave. As he underwent these
changes the people about him got mer-
rler and happier, and threw off the tenn
porary feeling or depression which he
had laid upon them.
"Do you always have your place deco
rated like this?" he finally asked Of Cos
kin.
This is Christmas eve" was the reply
december oath, sure enough"
That's the way | put it up, pard."
When | was in England | always
kept Christmas, but had forgotten that
this was the night. I've been wandering
about the mountains until I've lost all
track of the feasts of the church"
Presently his eye fell upon the piano
Where's the player" he asked.
Never had any," said Goskin, blush
ing at the confession
81 used to play when | was young"
| Goskin almost tainted at the admis-
sion.
Stranger, do tackle it, and give us
tune! Nary man in this camp had the
nerve TO wrestle with that music box"
| His pulse beat faster, for he feared that
the man would refuse.
/ "Ill do the best | cam he said
There was no stool, but, seizing a can
die box, he drew IL up and seated him
sell before the instrument 1t only re-
quirad few seconds for hush to come
over the room.
THAT old coon is going 10 give the
thing a rattle'
The sight of a man at the piano was
somgthing unusual that even the faro
dealer, who was about to take in $50
bet on the tray, paused, and did not
reach for the money. Men stopped
drinking, with the glasses to their lips.
Conversation appears to have been
struck with paralysis, and cards were
no longer shuffled.
The old man brushed back his long
white locks, looked up to the ceiling,
half closed his eyes, and in mystic
sort Of reverie passed his fingers over the
keys. lie touched but a single note, vet
the sound thrilled the room. Ii was the
key to his improvisation and as he wove
his chords together the music laid its
spell upon every ear and heart. He felt
his war along the keys, like a man tread
ing uncertain paths; but he gained CON
| tidence AS he progressed, and presently
bent to his work like q master The
instrument was notin exact tune, but the
ears Of his audience. through long dis
use, did not detect anything very
radically wrong Tney heard a success
and it was enough.
"See him counter with his lett :" said
an old rough, enraptured.
"He calls the turn every time upon
/ the upper end Of the board" responded
a man with stack of chips in his hand.
! The PLAYER wandered of into the old
ballads they had heard at home. All
the sad and melancholy, and toaching
songs, that came up like dreams of child
hood, this unknown player drew from
the keys. His hands kneaded their
hearts like dough and squeezed out the
tears as from wet sponge. As the
strains flowed one upon the other, thev
saw their homes Of the long ago reared
again: they were playing once more
where the apple blossoms sank through
the soft air to Join the violets on the
green turf of the old New England states:
they saw the glories of the Wisconsin
naples and the haze Of the Indian sum
mer blending their hues together; they
saw the heather Of the Scottish hills, the
white cliffs of Briton, and heard the sui.
len roar of the sea az it beat upon their
old Christmas carols, such as they had
sung in church thirty years before; the
subtle music that brings up the glimmer
of wax tapers the solemn shrines, the
evergreen holly, mistleto and surpiced
choirs. Then the remorseless performer
planted his final stab in the very heart
with "Home, Sweet Home"
When the player ceased the crowd
skunk from him There was no more
revelry and devilment left in the audi
ence. Each man wanted to sneak off to
his cabin and write the old folks letter.
The day was breaking when the last
man left the place, and the player laid
his head upon the piano and fell asleep.
81 say, pard," said Goskin, don't you
want some rest?'
81 feel tired" the old man said. Per.
haps you will let me rest here Tor day
or two2"
He walked behind the bar, where
some old blankets were lying, and stretch
ed himself upon them.
81 feel pretty sick guess | won't last
long. I've got brother down in the
ravine-his meme is Drscoll. lie doesn't
know that | am here. Can you get him
before morning? I'd like to see his face
before | die"
Goskin started up at the mention #
the name. He knew Driscoll well.
ole your brother? I'll have him here
in half an hour"
As he dashed out into the storm the
musician pressed his hand to his side
and groaned. Goskin heard the word
"hurry," aud sped down the ravine to
Driscolfs cabin.
1t was quite light in the room when
the two men returned. Driscoll was as
pale as death.
My God, I hope he is alive. |
wronged him when we were in England,
twenty years ago"
They saw the old man had drawn the
blankets over his face. The two stood a
moment. awed by the thought that he
might be dead. Goskin lifted the blanket
and pulled it down astonished. There
was no one there.
Gone" cried Driscoll, wildly.
"Gone" echoed Goskin, pulling out