The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1885-09-02
Reuben.


1t was legacy from the father, who
had died before Reuben was ten years
old and left him to the care of Uncle
Josiah, the brother of Reuben's long
dead mother. The strongest memory
Reuben retained of his father was a
mind-picture of a whte-haired man sit
ting up in bed, with the beloved violin
in his hands, filling the poor attic-room
with sweet sounds. He was partially
paralyzed even then, and later, when
his fingers became helpless, his heart
broke and he died.
Then Uncle Josiah came from the
country to the great city and took the
lad home At the bottom of the hair
trunk, containing all Reuben's possess
sions, were safely stored the violin and
case, with large assortment of music
the dead musician had left his boy.
On the farm in Jersey Reuben found
rough, kindly welcome. Aunt Polly
cried little over the orphan; Sue and
Jennie, kindly maidens, kissed and
caressed him, and Daisy, whose blue
eyes were like twin violets, stole shyly
up to the dark-haired lad and slipped a
slice of cake into his hands. 1t was a
busy hive, the old farmhouse, where
no drones found place.
Uncle Josiah disapproved altogether
of the violin. Never had he heard of a
fiddler blowing field or raising stock
Never had he seen any practical good
come from scraping catgut, and more
than once instant destruction was
threatened to Reuben's one pleasure
He grew afraid to raise the sweet
sounds he loved inside the farmhouse,
and would steal away to practice the
lesson his father had taught him to the
brook-side, the whispering woods or
shady lanes.
Nobody loved his violin but Daisy.
and listen with parted lips and shifting
color when Reuben woke the spirits of
music with his bow. Sue and Jennie
did not object to good, lively dance
tune; but only Daisy would follow Reu-
ben into the world where dreams
hoated into the sweet melodies and
the bow and string talked in musics
own language. Daisy alone knew of
the lonely walks with the dear COM
panion; and Daisy's lips would culver
and her blue eyes fill when the boy
whispered in her ear of his heart
hunger.
Years passed by and the boy became
a man.
"Scarcely worth his SALT" Uncle
Josiah pronounced him, and yet loved
him well for his gentle obedience, his
willingness to perform any task, how
ever distasteful.
"A dreamy gawk, in everybody's
way" Sue and Jennie said, but saved
the choicest bit of dainty country fare
for Reuben.
GA poor, weakly body" Aunt Polly
said, and her touch was soft on Reu-
ben's hair, while she sighed gently,
convinced that the pale, thin cheeks
would never grow round or rosy, but
likely rest under the daisies" she
thought, pityingly.
Only Daisy really understood the sensi-
tive nature, the tender heart, the starv-
ing, longing intellect. Only Daisy
grieved when the long, delicate hands
blistered and bled over rough work,
and would never harden. Only Daisy,
as maidenhood came, shrined Reuben
in her heart of hearts and knew no
other could ever take his place.
Only Daisy filled Reuben's heart! OF
all the rough life around him, there
was only one gentle influence to keep
his heart from breaking. The fair,
blue-eyed girl, with hair like floss silk,
alone understood him when he talked
of the books he borrowed from the
minister and eagerly perused. Daisy
alone kept him from the utter despair
of heart loneliness.
So these young hearts, in eleven long
wars lparn cd tho stOru of p,,t,,o1 tr,,th
mutual dependence, sympathy, tender
ness and devotion, which we call love.
On the day when Reuben was twenty
one he told Uncle Josiah he loved
Daisy, and Uncle Josiah sadly shook
his head.
"You'll never be able to keep
wife, Reuben" he said, "never! /
love Daisy too well to trust her to you.
Why, look at it, lad; you've never
earned full days wages since you
came to the farm. If you'd give up
your foolish fiddling now you might
make something of yourself, but as long
as your heart is in that saving and
scraping you'll be good for naught else.
It's my advice to you to smash the
fiddle over the first rock, and then I'll
talk to you about Daisy"
BREAK MS VlOlln! Destroy his dearest
friend, his sole comfort! But for
Daisy? What would he not do for
Daisy?
Perhaps Uncle Josiah was right.
Perhaps if he had no outlet for the
dreams that filed his soul they would
cease to haunt him, and he would con-
quer the may routine of farm drudgery
that was such heart breaking problem
to him. Perhaps when all the phan-
toms that broke into reality upon his
violin were driven away, he would be
the practical farmer to whom Uncle
Josiah would give Daisy.
Musing thus, very sorrOwfully, Reu-
ben took the violin from its case and
went to the woods, to an opening the
country folks called the fairy ring.
Here he sat upon huge stone and
played his farewell, a dirge of hope.
Great tears fell over his pale cheeks as
the wierd, melancholy strain echoed
through the space around him. Then
he wrapped the violin once, twice in