Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1882-04-27
THE WANDERERS.

1t was Christmas eve. A cold, old
fashioned Christmas, with snow lying
thick on the ground and still falling
heavily, with touch of fog in the air.
1t was past 10 o'clock, and the streets
and lanes of the great city were all but
deserted. Merchant and broker, clerk
and warehouse man, and the rest of the
busy crowd who had thronged the streets
by day had one by one drifted away to
their homes, and the lofty warehouses
doomed black and forbidden over the
silent thoroughfares. Here and there
the CLEAN from solitary window
struggled Intellectually with the outer
darkness, and served nut to bring into
stronger relief the general gloom and
solitude.
And nowhere was the darkness deep
er or the sense of desolation more pro-
found than in st. Winifreds court. st.
Winifred's is one OF those queer little
alleys which intersect the heart of east
ern London, and consists, with one
exception, of houses let out as offices,
and utterly deserted at night. The
court is bounded on one side by ST..
Winifred's church, while in one corner
stands a quaint old house, occupying a
nearly triangular piece of ground, and
forming the exception VIC have refer
red TO, having been for many years the
residence Of st. Winifred's organs,,
Michael Fray.
The only sign of life, on this Christ
faint CLEAN of Pickering freight pro-
ceeding from one of the windows of the
quaint three-cornered house in which
Michael Fray passed his solitary exist
ence. Many years before the period of
our story, the same month had taken
from him wife and child and since that
time Michael Fray had lived desolate,
his only solace being the rare old organ,
the friend and companion of his lonely
hours. The less of his wife and daugh-
ter had left him without kith or kin.
His father and mother had died in his
early youth, an only brother, gifted
but hayward youth, had in early life
run away to sea, and had there found
a watery grave. Being thus left alone
in the world Michael Trays love of
music. which had always been the
most marked feature of his character,
had become intensified into an ALSO
lutte passion. Evening after evening,
when darkness had settled on the city,
and none could complain that his music
interfered with business or distracted
the attention from the nobler clink of
gold, he was accustomed to creep
quietly into the church and there talk
to himself" as he called it, at the old
organ, which answered him back again
with tender sympathy aud power of
consolation which no mere human lis
tener could ever have afforded. The
organ of st. Winifred's was of compa-
ratively small size, and made but scanty
show of pipes and pedal but the
blackened case and yellow much-worn
keys had been fashioned by the cum
ming brain and skillful fingers of
Father Smith" himself, and.never had
the renowned old organ builder turned
out more skilful piece of workman
ship. And Michael Fray, by use Of
years and loving, tender study, had got
by heart every pipe and stop in the
rare old instrument, and had acquired
an almost magical power in bringing
out its tenderest tones and noblest har-
monies
Hear him at this Christmas eve, as
he sits before the ancient keyboard
one feeble candle dimly glittering over
the well-worn page before him; flicker
ing weirdly over the ancient carving,
and calling into momentary life the
efligv Of mitred abbott and mailed
crusader. a feeble old man, whose
sands of life have all but run out a
sadly weak and tremulous old man,
with shaking hands and dim uncertain
eyes. But when they are placed upon
those yellow keys, the shaking hands
shake no longer; the feeble sight finds
no labor in those well remembered
pages. Under the touch of Michael
Fray 3 def fingers the ancient organ
becomes instinct with life and har.
mony, The grand old masters lend
their noblest strains, and could they
revisit earth, need ask no better inter
prefer From saddest wall of sorrow
to sweetest strain of consolidation
the dirge for the loved and lost, to the
pann of the jubilant victor-each shade
of human passion, each tender message
of divine encouragement, take form
and color in succession, under tie
magic of that old mans touch. Thus,
sometimes borrowing the songs ofother
singers, sometimes wandering into the
quaint Eolian harmonies, the spon-
taneous overflow of his own rare gent
us. Michael Fray sat and made music,
charming his sorrows to a temporary
sleep.
Time crept on, but the player needed
il not, Till the heavy bell in the tower
above his head doomed for the hour
Of midnight and recalled him to reality