Weekly Chillicothe crisis. (Chillicothe, Livingston Co., Mo.) 1878-19??, 1884-03-13

',' - ~ nv I'''l INV lhNNl' l'"' UN
asked
The boys laughed.
you amt deaf, are you?" asked
Tom, not unkindly. "lf you once get
inside the building you can't very well
help hearing the music"
He drew Il long breath. "Ah. 'hccN
claimed, "that will be himmciS:h0cRr'
dropping, without knowing it, into n
language whore the boys could not fol.
low him.
Tom laughed again as he turned
away. Listen to the little fellow
speak Dutch" he said. II shouldn't
wonder if he was sort of genius"
You don think he'll sell the ticket.
do you, Mr.. Stevens" said Bob Mcr-
ritt, as the boy still fingered outside.
The teacher smiled gravcly. II
would aS soon expect one of YOU TO sell
his" he said. "MaN is waiting till we
get in; that is all. He has Il sort Of
dcIicacy about intruding his company
upon us. If you wait II minute YOU
will see him come in"
They stopped for moment lust out
side the door, and presently as Mr..
Stevens had said, Max entered. His
box was slung over his shoulder. and
people looked ut him wondcringly as
he went by, as though Il boot-black
were out Of place amid such fine sur
roundingS. But he was too much in
tcrestcd in what he saw to care for
their looks or their remarks. He had
stopped short on entering, and stood
looking down the long building.
throngcd with people and showcase,
and brilliant with electric light.
"Arh" they heard him say: $50
Schocn" Then removed slowly away.
like one in Il dream, and in Il moment
was lost in the crowd.
The boys following Mr.. Stevens.
soon found their attention absorbed bv
the objects of interest ON every side.
They accepted freely all the cards and
circulars that were offered them. gazcd
with fascinated delight upon the me
chanical furniture that became by Il
touch "a bed by ynight, chest of draw
crs by day, prowlcd dangerously near
the engines, crushing machines. and
iig-NawS. and exploited in riotous
laughter over the convex and concavc
mirrors, which expanded Pete Terry :
round face into the size and shape of Il
mammoth pumpkin, and narrowed Bob
Mcrriit'S lean yiSagc into the thinnrSs
of Il bcan-polr. Finally, when they had
quite exhausted the lower floor, with
out having seen their little bOOt-black
again. they went up stairs. Here. rs
they entered the door, they discovered
Max standing by one of the pianos
listening to the performance of lady.
His back was turned, so he could not
see them. Presently the lady stopped
and left the piano; and then the boys,
who waited at little distance. saw
Max draw Il step nearer to the stool,
and lay his hand upon the keys.
Il wonder if the little chap thinks he
can play" whispered Tom Drew.
He had hardly spoken when Man
touched Il few notes; and then, uS if
awakened by the sound, he sat down
at the instrument and struck full rich
chord. The blacking-boN Slipped from
his shoulder, and withdrawing one
hand from the keyboard, he let the
box fall upon the floor. Then. unhccd-
ing the crowd that was already gath-
cring around, he began to play. And
such playing few of the company had
ever heard How had the little boot
black ever become such Il master of the
art? Where had he got his wonderful
execution, and the still more wonderful
touch that made peoples hearts beat
and their breath come and 20 with
every note? If the boy were not play
ing before his eyes, Mr.. Stevens could
not believe that it was he, but the
testimony of both his eyes and ears left
no room for doubt. By-and-by Mr..
Stevens became aware that some one
was crowding in between Percy and
himself, and turning around, he met
the excited gaze of their forcign-look-
ing friend.
"Who is that?" the man asked.
hoarsely. "What is the boys name?n
Percy looked at Mr.. Stevens, and the
teacher nodded.
His name is Max Steinkamp,n the
boy explained; and then something
prompted him to say, "And he's lost
his father"
The man would have fallen if Mr..
Stevens had not held him up. In
moment, however, he had recovered
himself. "Ah, my little boy," he mur-
INJURED, it is | who am his father And
| have searched for him ah, so long
ever since | came out of the hospital.
Listen to the air which he plays. 1t is
that which his mother used to sing to
him. When | heard it outside | knew
it was little Max that was playing, and
that he was playing it for me. But |
do not want to make what you call
scene here. Will you not tell him to
come downstairs, and | will be there?"
"Well go down with you," said Mr..
Stevens, who was not going to run the
chance of losing Mr.. Steinkamp again.
percy, you wait here, and bring Max
down in minute or two"
"But do not tell him. said the Ger
man, "till he stops playing. His soul
is far away from here; wait till it comes
back"
1t was some minutes that Percy had
to wait, while the boy went on with
his beautiful and bewildering music;
but if the father could bear the delay,
he certainly could, and so he did not
move forward until the music died
away in a low, sweet strain. Then he
laid his hand lightly on Max shoulder.
The boy looked up in frightened
way, while the people round, who took
Percy for some kind of an official ,mur-
INJURED their disapproval.
'Did | do wrongr Max inquired,
recognizing his friend. "Ought | not
to have Played"
mo, no, was the reply; you did
quite right, 1t was beautiful, | never