The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1885-02-25

said, scornfully. ut is only poor plebei-
ans who do that. Let me hear you play.
She nestled the violin on her shoulder
cnressingly, anG obediently comspenced.
The air was simple, pleasan lullaby, in
a minor key. soft and sad, which had
been sung by many Roman nolhers to
their children. One of those airs. which,
like the German Lieder one finds among
the people, its author and origin lost in
antiquity, yet everlasting from its pathos
and tenderness. The violin was Ct to
be its interpreter, an old Cremona almost
black with age. The music fioated out
from the five quivering strings The girl,
her eyes almost closed and her head bent
] forward, stood erect, playing. The old
servant sat listlessly, caught by the music
swaying to and fro, as If rocking some
child, dead fifty years ago. Karl Berger
stood frowning In the shadow of cur
tain. What right had a contessa,
young girl, to play like that7 What right
had she to violin which was so much
botter than his? The soft repeated
strains came TO an end, and the girl
turned proudly toward him.
1t isfa wretched piece, wretchedly
| played, he said, Grossly. ''You will
never make an artistic of yourself. 1t
lacks soul, it lacks rhythm, it lacks
everything
These petulant words words which
the honest Karl Berger was ashamed of
even while he uttered them-struck the
young girl like blow. Her face
| proud and happy at her successful rem
dering of the simple peasant air, fell
suddenly at this harsh verdict, and. girl
like, she burst into sobs and left the
room, while the servant stared stolidly
at the fierce foreigner and then rose and
hobbled after the girl
Karl Berger felt ashamed Of himself
and his sudden fit of anger. lie took
up his own violin, but il sounded harsh.
He was cold and courteous to the pupils
who came that afternoon, but he was
glad when the day was over. They were
lighting the lamps in the courtyard below
when he looked out. He watched the
servants as they put the lamps in their
places, and after they had left he stood
at the window looking absently down on
the empty courtyard beneath, when he
saw figure coming slowly across the
yard. He stepped out on the balcony
and called to her, for he recognized the
escort of the ConteSsa Lucia. When the
woman had come up he asked her:
"Where does the Contessa Vinella
live ~
'In this house, signor, with relative.
The contessa has no other friends and
she lives here, but not in idleness, sig
nor! She is too proud for that! She
takes care of the house, and works like
servant. She has no friends but me;
/ was her nurse. She is too proud to go
with others in the house. Even her rela-
tives do not patronlze her, and the ser
wants are always very polite to her, and
always obey her, but behind her back
they laugh at her here, and call her the
'contessa- of all-worlS, and the 'cOntessa
cook Her grandfather, the Count
Yineila, had taught her music. and she
worked so hard at it that she might earn
her own living that way. Last week she
won the prize at the conservatoire, and
the city was to pay her tuition with YOU.
You should not have spoken so nArshly
to her, signorl l found her in her, little
room crying as if her heart would break !"
Karl Berger ran his hands through his
hair.
II was wron&-very wrong viii
you tell her said so2 Ask her to come
again, and l will promise TO be fairer."
The next afternoon the girl came in.
sit was very silly of me, Maestro. 20
run away like that" she said; "but l
want SO much TO be a good artistic, and
when you told me / could not
"Don't talk about it, please" inter-
rupted Karl; 81 was cross and tired. and,
if you must know it, Jealous" and he
smiled grimly. Eyes, jealous, that you
could play better than l..
Lucia flushed with delight.
''If you mean that-but mol You are
laughing at me-"
~ mean what said, 4" replied Karl,
determinedly. 81 can teach you tech
nique, perhaps; after that you have moth
ing to learn
So it was settled.
One day, during the lesson, Karl said
abruptly:
"Would you like also to study at
nightl My evenings are all my own"
The girl laughed with pleasure and
cried "Oh, Mastero, you are so kind"
So, after the work was done. Lucia
would come in with Marcia, her old
nurse, aud after the lesson Karl would
pick up his own violin and play. One
night he stopped suddenly and said to
her:
II wish you would not call me Macs
tro. am not a master in music. am
only sham, and some day they will
find it out. l am not much older than
YOU and don't play any better. want
you TO think of me as fellow student,
not as a teacher"
''What shall call you, thenl" Lucia
asked shyly.
" Karl.n
That is a pretty name, said Lucia.
Z" 1t was my fathers,n - and he went on
to speak of his Northern home, of the
snow,storm when all the family died but
himself, and how he was found famished
and senseless, with his violin huggcd TO
his breast And Lncia sat still and
drank in every word. Then she told him
Of her own home and her past history
Each night after they laid their music