River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1881-09-08

Inc young musician was the non OF
the hour. Fashionable ladies sought
him out. Invitations to fetes, and re-
ceptions, and dinners, reined upon him.
1t was at one of these latter that ne
and Miss Laurence met.
81 have pressed your flowers" he
SAID to her, in low voice.
'My flowers ?" she answered, with a
blush.
Then she remembered the violets
she had so impulsively thrown him.
~ had almost forgotten" she added.
"What was it, Herr Seiberg, that you
played? 1t has haunted me ever since"
Some day. ne replied, 81 will tell
you. Now you shall know only that
you were its inspiration"
Were his words presumption? She
could not answer; neither could she
know the strange power which ever
swayed her in this mans presencs.
'You do not teach ?" she said to him,
one day.
"No," he answered. "But if you will
be my pupil, it would be indeed pleas
IRE"
"And your terms?"
His face flushed.
81 need no gold," he responded. ''It
is only that some day you should hear
my story"
az see nothing of you, Selma . said
Fairfax Farley, during this time. "Do
you forget that | have some claims?"
''No, l forget nothing" she said.
But there was sadness rather than
in her tone.
Are you not ready to give me your
answer, dear?" the man continued.
''Why do you hold me in suspense?
Why, darling, may not have the sweet
promise that / crave?"
Did she shudder? If so, it was but
as the sweet young voice
made answer.
"True," it said, "you have been very
patient but be so yet little longer.
Let me but be sure of myself, 1t is
only for this assurance, Fairfax, that l
wait"
But underneath Fairfax Earle
courteous claim was a seeth US
storm, q burning jealousy.
Two weeks later, he waited outside
Miss Laurence's home until Herr Sci
berg stood on the steps, in the moon
light. tie had been passing the eve
ming with her. The two had dined at
her table. An hour before Mr.. Farley
had made his adieux.
"Herr Seiberg !"
1t was her voice, addressing the young
musician.
"Yes," he responded, his surprise
showing mis- tone.
II have waited for you," continued
Mr.. Farley, Gin order to ask of you
favor. 1t is a great favor, but money
need be no object between us. | am
willing to pay you any price, however
and although | know it Is
quite out of your line, | want very
much that you should play one solo at
my wedding"
In the moonlight Herr Seiberg's face
showed a strange pallor.
"At your wedding You are to be
May l enquire to whom?"
miss Laurence is my betrothed.
Had you not heard?"
Both in question and answer rang
strained intensity; but the silence that
had in its dumbness more
force than either. Then Herr Seiberg
spoke
Tomorrow night, at this hour; you
shall have my decision" he said, and
rapidly strobe away.
Before noon, the day following, Miss
Laurence received Herr Seiberg's card.
Penciled on it were these words:
ID. ,,,+, nj
a halfhour's interview in which to bid
YOU farewell.
Farewell? There was q certain spas
modic fiuttering of her heart as she
limly realized its pHrport.
What did this sudden departure pOr-
tend? and why-why did 1t cause this
faint sickness, which stole through her
every nulse and fiber of her heart?
"Sh6W Terr Scibsrg up" she said to
the servant: then, Schooling herself to
be calm, sat awaiting him.
On the threshold Of the room he
paused.
"You asked me once, Miss Lau-
renee" he began, 'the story my violin
told on the night we met. | answered
you that sometime you should know.
Would it weary you to hear it nowY
She shook her head. and motioned to
a chair, but he still stood.
Unjust go back many years" " he said,
''to the time when | was a little lad,
footsore and friendless. Nay, not
friendlessl | had one friend-a poor
little piece of wood, with strings across
it; but | forgot that it was wood. In
my hours of loneliness, and grief, and
sadness, | would talk to it, and then,
by idly drawing my bow across the
strings, it would answer me. All, no
one would have believed it but myself,
but it painted to me the future-it told
me all that 1 might be. 1t whispered
breathed hope. Well, one
day, strolling through the streets,
its chords, asking no alms-I
never begged boy older than |,
taller. stronger, boy richly dressed,
and with gold chain hanging at his
vest, stopped and Knocked me. |
walked on silently. He followed me,
and, in an unprepared moment, snatch
ed my violin, and, swapping II across
his knee, threw it in the filth and mud
of the street.
i WAS clulIl6u 1hC uAdSiAedNO VI
my loss overwhelmed me. The surg
ing tide of my despair closed in about
my soul. ] saw neither earth nor sky
.naught save the shattered, voiceless
wood. Then he who had wrought the
wanton, wicked act, threw me coin.
1t reused me from my stupor.
caught and hurled it back. Not thus
might he pay the debt | owed to him.
''In that moment carriage passed.
Seated within was beautiful child-a
little girl. She ordered the coachman
to stop. She had seen something of
what had happened. Then, with
tender pity in her eyes, and voice
like music, she put her purse into my
hands and babe mc use its contents as
| would.
"'Some day she said, when you
are great musician, you shall repay
me. Who knows? you may play at
my wedding
The girls head was bowed now. Her
bosom rose and fell. Two sparkling
tears glimmered on the lashes which
swept her cheek. Like dream it all
came back to her; like a vision, she
saw the boyish face uplifted to hers
through mist of tears.
Herr Seiberg strobe to her side. He
put his hand within his coat and drew
something forth. Instinctiveiy she
knew it to be the little purse.
at has never left me-" he said,
boarseIv al owe all that [ am to YOU