The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1885-04-01
The Young Yiolinist.


The shadows of night were fast gath
ering over the large old town of Han
over at the close of dreary day in
midwinter. Out in the darkness a
small child, with bare head and feet
blue and pinched with the cold, crouched
upon the steps of wretched dwelling,
where, in the uppermost story, she lived
alone with her brother and called it
home.
ooh, how / wish dear Fritz would
come" she sighed, as she heard the
clock in the neighboring steeple strike
nine; and then, drawing her tattered
gown around her poor, shivering limbs,
lean and shriveled for want of proper
food and shelter, and tired of waiting,
for Fritz was very late tonight, she
fell asleep, the snow-hakes gathering
thick and fast upon her tangled hair.
Madge was used to being alone, and
used to cold and hunger, too, and long
watching had made her very patient.
1t was not an impatient exclamation
that we have Just heard; she was only
looking and listening for the weary feet
that had been out all day in the street
and the snow in quest of food to keep
them both from actual starvation.
Very soon her pale face frightened
as gentle touch upon her shoulder
wakened her, and she saw the familiar
form of her brother standing before
her. Fritz was not many years her
senior, and yet young as he was, he
had tried to fill the place of father and
mother to little Madge since her baby
hood, for it was since then that their
mother had died, and soon after Fritz's
father died also, leaving nothing to him
in the wide world but the old violin,
which, though blind, he had played
about the streets of Hanover for many
year.
Fritz reverenced this heirloom as the
last gift of his father, keeping it care
fully covered and handling it always
with the utmost tenderness. To forget
anything his father had taught him
would have been Dissertation, and he
lost no opportunity to increase his
knowledge of music, for it was music to
him, however poor it might seem to
others. Day after day he would saunter
through the streets, working most en-
ergetically at his violin, playing many a
went home Madge would try her ut
lllOol W SluS lllCIll Will Hill, llIdl oOlllC
day she might accompany him with her
voice; and all day long, alone in her gar
ret ROOM. she practiced as well as she
could those tunes that she knew he liked
best.
But to-day had been such a hard day
to them both, and poor Fritz had re-
turned to his tenement hungry, wet,
and withal discouraged, for you must
remember be was very small boy to
assume such grave responsibilities, even
if the rent was small! and the food
meagre. He had earned but very few
pennies, and the attic where they slept
was cold and cherries, without spark
of fire or so much as light, for the last
remnant of their solitary candle had
burned out the night before; but he did
not know then, poor boy, that God is
always behind the clouds, and no one
had ever told him to trust in him who
out of the dreariest darkness, can bring
marvellous light.
"Don't worry about me, Fritzy; Pm
not so very hungry. You must be
awfully hungry, though, you've been
out so long in the cold and the rain.'
But though there were only two tiny
rolls and one small herring, Fritz would
have died sooner than have let Madgt
suffer, however hungry he might be
himself.
AS soon as they had eaten this scanty
meal and had little music, for this wa
never forgotten, tired and cold as they
both were, he laid his little sister dow
upon their miserable cot Just as he ha(
done in her babyhood, and then threw
himself in his tattered and damp clothin!
by her side, with only one wish in hi
heart-that the morning dawn might fin,
him dead and Madge too. And We
these poor, destitute children slept, il
spite of hunger and cold, as only chill
dren can, little knowing then what tn
good God had in store for them. The
had never heard the promise, so Oftel
fulfilled, that " the needy shall not b
forgotten, nor the expectation of tn
poor perish forever"
The next day was bright one. Eve
through the dingy window in their atti
room the sun peeped in and seemed t.
whisper of hope and comfort. Frit
started out early with his faithful friend
|" the old fiddle" The bright day CAV
him new courage, and ii was not so yer
cold The streets were literally aliv
with people, early as it was, though the
were all too intent upon their own bus
ness to notice the little violinist, and
was hours before he could attract tn
attention of any one to the tunes whic
he played. House after house, dow
the length of many block, was tried i
vain. AT last he turned into broa
and elegant street where were supre
houses. Fritz ventured to open tn
gate of one of them and walk il
"Please may play you tune?" h
said in timid voice as he saw figur
at the window A lovely lady locke
up at the child's sweet tones, and mt
the gaze of Fritz's great, sorrowful eye
and his rags and tatters.
Yes, you may gladly, my poor boy.
Since his mother died no gentle wore
like these had ever been spoken to hin
1t was the first kindly interest that an
one had shown him, and so, tuning u
the strings of his fiddle, he began
play enthusiastically the old, famili'
air of Home, Sweet Home" vii
x,ariafinpa which hio fatbar lopn mr.