The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1881-07-01

| And thought it was all very queer, no doubt.
| Miss Molly Mogg, wise and clever,
| Said: IS Such goose never saw-never
| To think that she ran, without any cause,
| From Observation-Disclosures ."
| St Nicholas.
Girl with Patience 10 Practice.
CT hate him Yes, do and /
never will take another lesson See If
do !" This was said with emphasis.
Mrs. Gordon looked out of the parlor
window to find that the speaker was her
own little daughter. Madge was a
bright, active girl, with lovely chestnut
hair, blue eyes and red cheeks. A pet
at home and favorite at school, it was
not strange that she was imperious she
enjoyed music, but she "hated prac-
tice."
desired Madge to become an accurate
musician, and she felt that Prof. Dart
rum was judicious teacher. A mo-
ment later the parlor door was pushed
open and Madge stood there. There
was a look of defiance in her deep blue
eyes.
Let us hear all about it," said Mrs.
Gordon, making place for Madge and
her two young friends on the sofa.
Then followed brief narration of the
very strict rules, and the torture to
which she was every day subject.
Miss Craven Is not half as strict
say may take lessons of Miss Craven,
mamma Madge concluded.
For answer Mrs. Gordon said very
gently, Before we decide let me mar
rate something that L have read of a
young girl whose teacher was far more
exacting than Prof Dartrum."
"That could never bel" exclaimed
Madge.
Twill you have the story"
"Yes, yes! !" cried three voices in
chorus.
g As L shall leave you to guess the
name of the young girl, you will need to
pay particular attention." continued
Mrs. Gordon. "The sleepy old place in
which our heroine lived possibly had
something to do in fostering the love of
music in her breast until it burst into a
flame bright enough to Ilumine two
continents"
Here Madge felt that she had guessed
the name.
This sleepy old town." continued
Mrs. Gordon, chad theater where the
little girl was accustomed to go with her
father. He was tiute-player in the the
ater and organist in the famous old ca
thedral. At last, from following the
musicians 80 closely, she longed to play
herself. The flute did not suit her small
mouth but the violin-yes, she would
have q VIC in
I" A violin-nothing could be more
absurd, her relatives declared and
Aunt Caroline insisted that her father
must not indulge the child in this way
only boys played violins. However,
this little girl kept on asking, and at
last her father brought home the small.
est violin that he could possibly buy.
And now for lessons M. Simon, the
teacher, lived good distance away. 1t
did not matter; three times week she
took the long walk through the Rue Vol
taire, across the crowded place where the
theater stood, past the handsome stores
and over the bridge, and then along a
narrow street till the gray towers of the
old chateau came in sight.
First she must learn to stand-now
to rest on her left foot with the right
partly in front then how to hold her
violin--how it should rest on her shout
der and how to grasp and support it.
Hold it perfectly still for ten minutes |!
Then bay it down for few minutes
rest Take it up again and hold it
firm
Patiently now she bent her small
fingers over the strings, as if to touch a
chord--head erect, left arm bent and
brought forward so that she could see
her elbow under the violin. Then she
must stand perfectly still, with the right
arm hanging down naturally No bow,
of course. She must first learn TO slis-
tain the weight Of the violin and ac-
custom her arm TO it's shape. In ST.
lence and motionless she held the in
strument.
For two or three weeks she did this,
and nothing more.
Then the bow was placed in her
right hand Now rest it lightly ON the
strings and draw it down slowly and
steadily. Not sound. No, there was
no resin on the bow, and it slipped over
the strings In silence.
"Two hours every day, nothing but
positions and dumb motions; not even
finger exercises. Simply to learn to
stand, to put the fingers in the right
place, and to make the right motions
with the bow Very often her poor arms
would ache and her legs become stiff
with standing. Then her teacher had a
temper, and was at times fearfully cross.
Tears stood in her eyes, but no word of
complaint ever was uttered. She was
going to play, and this was The way to
learn.
At home the same thing was repeat
ed. Three hours practice every day
with the dumb violin-and this for three
full months.
"Now she has resin on her bow. The
exercises are all written out with pen
by her master. Long -sustained notes
by the hour. The DO " hardly moved, 80