Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1884-02-27

! S~e~ o~~AS
cert, that mamma was visiting a sick
friend, and baby was asleep.
"Why did you not go to the concert,
too p he asked, pulling at the corner oil
his black moustache.
1--WE couldn't all co." replied Floy.
dora and Cora are the Oldest, and OF
course they couldn't stay at home Just
for little girl like me. It's going to
be perfectly splendid, too, Dora said;
and Cora said wouldn't appreciate it,
anyhow" she added, with slight culver
in her voice, IS she thought how at that
very moment they were sitting in the
blaze of the gaslight, listening to those
rapturous melodies she 20 lonaed to
hear.
The gentleman's eyes twinkled mer-
rily as he asked, ''Do you like music p
ooh, SO much !" was the reply, with
glance at the elegant piano, she was
seldom allowed to touch lest she leave
| 6ngermarks.
"And do you ever play o. continued
tho questioner.
"sometimes," said Floy. "When
the girls are away mamma lets me prac-
tice all l want to. I can play waltz
learned all by myself" she added, with
| an air of amusing confidence.
II love music, too. Won't you play
your waltz for me?' he added, coax
ingly.
Though naturally timid, Floy's re-
serve had vanished in the genial pres
ence of the stranger, and so she played
and he listened, and even persuaded her
to sing for him one of her quaint little
songs. The sweet voice warbled like q
bird, and then sank into a mournful
strain, from which it rose caroline
again, until the gentleman clapped his
hands with delight.
You Will make great singer vet.
little one," he remarked to the astonished
child. ttJust keep on singing, and
some day the world will hear OF you.
And since you have played for me will
play for YOU"
he seated himself at the instrument
and ran his fingers over the keys. It
seemed to Floy that he touched them
without knowing what he did, and yet
there burst forth such a flood of melodies
that the child could scarcely believe her
senses, and crept close beside him to
watch his hands as they few with such
wonderful rapidity over the white ivory.
And then he sang song after song, until
the tears sprang to the great brown eyes;
such tender harmonles, such angelic
music she had never listened to before in
her short life.
When he had finished he turned and
looked into the upturned face. "What
tears?" he exclaimed.
"Oh, it's all so grand, so beautifully
was the reply.
he caught her hands in his, and
laughed merry, ringing laugh, end told
her those little hands would some dav
play much better than his clumsy ones
had done. Then going to the door and
finding the storm had ceased, he put on
his coat, which was nearly dry by this
time, and tying handkerchief over his
head told his little hostess he must be
going. He thanked her for her kindness
and babe her adieu, leaving in her hand
a card. She took it to the light and read
thereon, "Carl Fraulander.''
Mrs. Bisbee returned soon after. and
heard with delight Floy's story. Then
they sat quietly by the fire and waited
until sorry looking group put in an ap-
pearance few hours later, cold, tired
and cross.
The girls told OF their disappointment;
how the professor had been prevented
by railroad accident from reaching the
city; what a "perfectly hor1id " time
they had; "what bore it is to live in
the country any way"
But what was their chagrin when thew
found that patient, self sacrificing little
Floy had been the great musicians sole
audience, and that he had sung for her
some of his choicest productions There
was no help for it, however, and they
bore 1t with as good grace as could be
expected.
Ten years have passed away. Again
1t is September, mild and mellow and
golden, with fruitage ripening every-
where, and hazy glory hanging over
lake and mountain.
The farm house upon the hill is trifle
gayer than of yore, and the vines clam
Der more wildly over it's porches, while
the trees cast denser shadows than thew
did when first We made the acquaint.
ance OF the Bisbee family. Let US
peep within those walls again, for it is
evening now, and the lamps are lighted.
Beside the window, in his easy chair. the
father reclines. His usual active limbs
are quiet now; but the doctor SAYS his
illness is not as yet dangerous: onlv he
must have the best of nursing and per-
feet rest. The mother moves ouietlv
about, but her step is slower. and her
black hair is threaded With silver.
"Hark Didn't I hear a footaten
Has she Gomez" the Invalid asks, ca
gerly.
1T is only the breeze, father"
But listen! Is it not some one sing.
ing? The sick man hears it, too, for the
dropping head is quickly raised, and he
bends forward to listen. In at the open
window it floats, snatch of ssHome.
Sweet Home" low soft and sweet, yet
clear as the notes of silver lutte. It
seems to electrify the eager listener.
who starts from his seat, forgetful Of
his week limbs, but is gently drawn
back by his wife. r -~..
''Wait moment. Robert" she says
'tlisten again."
Bnt there is no mistaking that bird |
like voice as it thrills and auivers on
the willing air, only it is richer and full
or and more complete, and it holds the |
old couple as if spell bound for mo-
ment. - @ @@
But it was only for q moment, and
then the singer is in their midst. It
is Floy, who has returned from the
school of art aud music, where she |
has won high honors, to gladden. the
dear home with her sweet presence, and
waken the echoes with her Joyous
songs.
The offer of salaried position in the
city has been declined, because home
duties rank first in the warm little /
heart. And mothers eyes grow moist
and fathers hand rests long and loving.
" on the young head as they welcome
her home again.