The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1881-05-18
go Reward
To a compliant Pianer Player.

the fireplace His garments, such as were
left, were wet with melting snow, and he
had half-starved, half-crazed expression.
He held his thin, trembling hands toward
the fire, and the light of the blazing wood
made them almost transparent.
He looked about him once in while, as
if in search of something, and his presence
cast such a chill over the place that grad
ually the sound of revelry was hushed, and
it seemed as if this waif of the storm had
brought in with it all the gloom and cold
ness of the warning elements. Goskin, mix
ing up cup of eggnog, advanced and re-
marked cheerily:
Here, stranger, brace upl This is the
real stuff"
The man drained the cup, smacked his
lips, and seemed more at home.
"Been prospecting, eh2 Out in the noun
tains-caught in the storm7 Lively night,
this"
"Pretty bad" said the man.
unjust feel pretty dry2"
The man looked at his streaming clothes
and laughed, as if Goskin's remark was a
sarcasm.
"How long out2'
-Four days"
Hungry"
The man rose up, and walking over to the
lunch counter, fell to work upon roast beef,
devouring it like any wild animal would
have done. AS meat and drink and warmth
began to permeate the stranger, he seemed
to expand and tighten up. His features lost
their pallor, and he grew more and more
content with the idea that he was not in the
grave. As he underwent these changes the
people around him got merrier and happier,
and threw off the temporary feeling Of de-
preston which he bad laid upon them.
Presently his eye fell upon the piano.
"Where's the player?" he asked.
"Never had any," said Goskin, blushing
at the confession.
II used to play when / was young"
Goskin almost tainted at the admission.
stranger, do tackleit and give US tune.
Nary man in this camp ever had the nerve
to wrastle with that music box" His pulse
beat faster, for he feared that the man
would refuse.
"I'll do the best can" he said.
There stool, but selling candle
box, he drew it up and seated himself before
the instrument. 1t only required few Sec
onds for hush to come over the room.
"That old coon is going to give the thing
rattle"
The sight of man at the piano was some
thing so 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 at their lips. Conversation appeared
to have been struck with sort of 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 q mystic sort of reverie
passed his fingers over the keyes. He
touched but single note, yet the sound
thrilled the room. 1t was the key to his i'm
provisation, and as he wove his chords
together the music laid its spell upon every
ear and heart. He felt his way along the
keys like a man treading uncertain paths,
but he gained confidence in his work like q
master. The instrument was not in exact
tune, but the ears of his audience, through
long disuse, did not detect anything wrong.
They heard a succession of grand chords, a
suggestion or paradise, melodies here and
there, and it was enough.
"See him counter with his leftl' said an
old rough, enraptured.
"He calls the turn every time on the
upper end of the board" responded man
with stack of chips in his hand.
The player wandered off into the old bal
lads he had heard at home. All the sad
and melancholy and touching songs, that
came up like dreams of childhood, this un-
known 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,
they 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 summer blending their
hues together; they saw the heather of the
Scottish hills, the white cliffs of Briton, and
heard the sullen roar of the sea as it beat
upon their memories vaguely.
Then came all the old Christmas carols
that they had sung in Church thirty years
before; the subtle music that brings up the
glimmer of WALLPAPERS, the solemn shrines
the evergreen, holly, mistletoe and the sur
pliced choiFs. Then the remorseless per
former planted his final stab in every heart
with Home, Sweet Home"
When the player ceased, the crowd skunk
away from him. There was no more rev.
elry and merriment left in his audience
Each man wanted to sneak off to his cabin
and write the old felix's a letter. The day
was breaking as the last man left the place,
and the player, laying his head down on
the piano, fell asleep.
81 say, pard," said Goskin, "Don't you
want little rest?"
81 feel tired" the old man said. "Per-
haps you'll let me rest here for the matter
of day or So"
He walked behind the bar, where some
old blankets were lying, and stretched him.
self upon them.
Il feel pretty sick guess 1 won't last
long. I've got brother down in the IA
vine-his names Driscoll. He don't know
I'm here. Can you get him before morning
I'd like to see his face once more before
die"
Goskin started up at the mention of the
name. He knew Driscoll well.
"He your brother2 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
and sped down the ravine to Driscolps
cabin.
1t was quite light in the room when the
two men returned. Driscoll was pale as
death.
'Mv Godl hope he's alivel / wronged
him when he lived in England, twenty years
ago."
They saw the old man had drawn the