The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1883-11-01
"iT Is MY HEART"


his heavy brows; he was perplexed as
to what should be done with the little
figure before him. There he stood in
his wooden sabets and rough peasants
clothes, hat in hand, and under one arm
the precious possession of his life-a lit.
tie black fiddle.
The child's face was what puzzled the
burgaomaster more than the simple
tbe boy looked up with his earnest eyes
it some how seemed to him strangely
familiar.
Where had he seen it before?
There was no fear in his manner, only
. restless movement of the hand holding
the cap showed him to be ill at ease.
The week before he had come into town
With his little old fiddle and strange ac.
cent, and until to-day had been unmo-
Tested.
Now, for what reason he could not
guess, he had been seized upou sudden.
" by the town authorities and brought
before the burgsmaster. A part only
could he make out of what was said, for
his own language sounded queer on
these strange tongues; and as to the ex-
plantations offered, they had seemed a
perfect jargon to the townspeople; there
fore the curgomaster, being learned
man and versed in the ''pstois" spoken
in the various sections of the country,
the lad Nas brought before him.
Their duty, at all events, had been &C
complishei. They had explained how
day after day the child pursued no call
ing-attempted no trade-but sat on
bench or by the road with the children
clustering about, playing his fiddle,
content if in return they sometimes
shared with him their huge slices of
bread.
1t was a vagrant life, and would teach
their own little ones bad habits, there.
fore, must be stopped. Either he must
leave the town, or 60 among the town
poor people and learn an honest trade.
The burgomaster, q stout, red faced
man, had long ago done with sentiment,
therefore small leniency was to be looked
for from him.
So Carl was brought, and now, all
alone, stood before the magistrate. What
he had done or what was to be done with
him, he did not know.
After silence, seeing the burgomas-
ter looking at him, Carl came a step for.
ward, and with his impetuous manner,
exclaimed:
"What is it I have done? Naught but
play upon my fiddle to the children. It
did no harm, and they liked it. Is il an
efense to make music? In other places,
/ and my fiddle have made friends with
the townsfolk."
The shaggy brows knit closer, and
away down in the burgomaster's heart
stirred chord that for long years had
lain so quiet its existence had we'll nigh
been forgotten.
Understand what the boy said? At the
sound of that patois, SO strange to the
ignorant townspeople, there came to him
visions of his youth, and long holiday
in the far.off sunny hamlet where this
dialect to him had grown the sweetest
music in the world as it fell in liquid,
cultural notes from the lips Of young
peasant maid.
So we'll the memory came-so fresh, it
seemed but yesterdsy-when, over
worked with studies, he had gone from
home to gain health and strength, and
leave learning for awhile to its own de.
vices. Well had his fathers injunction
been carried out in all save the last, and
that truly had been through no spirit of
O10ODoulCnSCs ~ WOO AO AOAO koAuCu
from books; it sprang up in his heart,
and not until the lesson had been learned
too thoroughly ever to forget, did he
even guess of its existence.
"Come, lad" he says kindly, and ct
The sound the boys heart rejoices, for he
hears his own tongue, little strange
from disuse. yet perfectly Ineligible.
''They say thou must give up thy fiddle
If ever thou wouldst thrive"
"Ah, nein. nein-it is my hearth
elasping it closer.
.'fhy heart? Then, lad, it shall not go
vet first let's hear what thou canst bring
from it.
For q moment Carl looked thought
fully into the burgomaster's face; then
ssys:
s'Thou shalt hear what the corn sings
when it is growing, and the trees whis-
per when the breeze touches them at
night. In the times when have lain
upon the hillsides, watching sheep, my
Addle aud heard it over and over"
The lads quaint imaginings touch the
barRomaster's heart, and smiling. he
nods mis- head to the boy. Slowly the
"a eddie i taksn ont, the strings tight
enea: then, resting his chin upon il.
W~hf;v hA draws the bow across. The