The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1885-01-08

L rang at the door. anu d HedG uudlu
opened and admitted me. l was
shown into the parlor. A moment
later, in rushed Mr. Parnacott, with
both hands extended. $50 glad to
see you. I wish you had come an
hour earlier in time for breakfast.
Now we must wait. Inever, on prln-
ciple, have anything between meals;
but there is music, my dear fellow
come into my sanctum and hear. L
have got Bach open, and have been
practising his most difficult fugue In
d sharpe minor. What a man that
grand old Sebastian was! He lived
before his time! Like all geniuses,
he lived for an appreciative future.
Fancy his fugues on the spinet! i'm
possible! On the harpischord! intol-
erable! The pianoforte was not IN
his day. Come along; | have some
thing to show you. | have Just re.
ceived copy of Science OF Fugue,
published in 1752.-an original copy.
and I have been enjoying it all
the morning Figured base. Come
along. We lunch at half past one"
He drew me into his little back
room, and seated himself at the piano.
He struck a cord. then turning his
head over his shonlder, asked, "You
are fond of music?"
"Yes. very"
"Do you play yourse.f?"
"a little"
"Bach ?"
tGN
mot Bach! Then you are in dark
ness. Are you fond of fugues?"
II cannot say" I replied; and to
this day [ would make the same an
swer, empty or full, Il really cannot
say"
Fugues are beyond my musical horl-
zon. They may be very fine. but they
are very bewildering. They appeal
to the brain, not to the ear They
demand a scientific knowledge OF mu-
sic, not musical soul To me they
resemble steeplechase. Away goes
the parts, helter-skelter over the
hedges, tripping one another up, down
into the bitches, head over heels, up
again. Tallv-ho! away at neck and
neck tear! The devil take the hinder
most!
NOW we come to very choice
passage" exclaimed Mr. Parnacott,
s'be ali ear" His fingers raced, twist
ed. Jumped, the hands played leap
frog, helter-skelter! I thought the
wires must have given way.
On the table was tumbler and a
red, porous, earthenware water-bottle.
Unobserved, / poured out a glass and
drank it off. The water Stacked my
thirst, but did not satisfy my hunger.
The fugue went on, it seemed inter-
minable; it went on upon my nerves
they thrilled, leaped, twinged; l
could bear it no more. 1t drove me
desperate. I sprang to my feet, |
put nv hand down on the fingers of
the instrumentalist, and whilst cold
perspiration streamed from my brow
and literally dripped from me, | said,
with white face and quivering lips,
"a piece Of bread and butter!-a piece
of bread and butter is worth more
than all the fugues ever written by
old Bach or any other fool!'
"What!'' exclaimed Mr.. Parnacott,
springing up. "You are insane, sir!
You take extraordinary liberties.
This is my house, sir! This is my in
strument, sir! These are my fngures,
sir! This is my Bach. sir! You for
got yourself, schoolmaster! Allow me
to show you the door"
I left the house quivering in every
fibre. That dreadful fugue had driven
me to desperation. A fugue is never
soothing,-on an empty stomach it IS
maddening.
I lurched along the road, now not,
now cold, mopping my face, then sit
ting down on bank to compose my
self. Ny head SWAN when | stood
up, and a cloud seemed to drift before
my eyes. / feared losing conscious
ness. looked at my watch and saw
that the time was noon. l knew
that about mile and half across
the fields was Harwood Park. Should
I venture there? Mr.. Harwood had
assured me Of welcome. He was a
blunt, open-hearted man. l would
tell him my need, and he would at
once order me some lunch. 1t was
now too late to think Of breakfast.
I walked over the fields golden with
buttercups. The hedges were full of
and the path under them
looked as though they had never b en-
showed over,-they were strewn with
the fallen flowers. The birds were
singing, the flowers were expanded to
the sun,-all nature was brimming
with happiness, except myself, and |
asked for very little to be happy as
any bird or blossom. | asked. for
nothing but a piece Of bread and but
ter.
The fresh grass about me, the sweet
scents exhaled by the flowers. revived
and soothed me. | felt better when |
reached the park gates. The rhodod-
endrons were blaze Of bloom, GRIM
son, white, and lilac. The azaleas al
so, yellow, salmon-colored, and crush
ed strawberry, were mass OF flower.
The red and pink thorns were also in
bloom, so were the laburnum and
guelder roses. The drive to the house
lay between banks of color.
The mansion is handsome, in the
Italian style, built about the end of |
last century or the beginning of this, |
with Ionic pilasters. aud windows let
in between them, and d pediment ov-
sr the door containing the arms of
the Harwoods. Before the house was
4 terrace beautiful with azaleas, and a
fountain. Large glass doors opened
nto the hall. rang, somewhat tim !