The Londonderry sifter. (South Londonderry, Vt.) 1883-19??, 1886-09-09
The Contrabasso's Story
BY j. WATSON STEAD.

WtlC JuSG lOul VI tACul-lWO
violins, flute and contrabasso-and a
most harmonious quartette they were.
Their master, an old musical enthusiast,
kept the room in which they rested
| sacred to the divine art. He never
boxed up the smaller instruments, but
left them laying around to be company
for ca h other, as he told visiting friends.
Little did he dream how much the four
enjoyed themselves, and what good
company they were to each other. When
the quiet hours came along they would
crack jokes and tell little stories. And
such stories! Many were the interesting
scenes they had witnessed, and with true
musical enthusiasm they wove those
scenes into very romances.
One particular evening the old contra
basso appeared more than usually happy,
and his strings quivered with real excite
ment. One of the violins inquired the
reason.
81 am somewhat excited this evening,
my diminutive brethren replied the
basso in his deepest tones, "because it
is the anniversary of very notable oc-
currence in which I played leading
part" The old basso paused to give
due importance to his words and notice
their effect upon his companions, and
was implored to relate the story.
"Well,' replied he, "my story is about
the strangest you ever heard. 1t is now
nine years since the event happened, but
whenever I think of it feel like striking
up iig-tune and dancing to it. My
master then q have been with my pres
ent owner but three years. was a young
gentleman with a great love for music
but with greater love for the dearest
brightest, sweetest little lady have ever
seen. Yes, she was little; retite is the
proper word, I think, and this fact has
good deal to do with my story. My
master, whose name was Walter Good
son, occasionally brought her che called
her Rosie) to the music-roo m, when she
sang and played the piano, my master
playing the violin; and they produced
such lovely music that, more than once,
/ was so enchanted nearly fell down.
Master Walter would then say: See,
Rosie, the old bass fiddle; it's sliding
down to the floor,' and he would take
me by the neck and place me upright in
the corner. But to my story. My two
loving children Gor l felt like father
to them seemed to love one another very
much. | must not be depended upon as
a sure judge, however, for was never
in love save once, o"er delicious run
in one of Handers works; 1 gathered
this from their actions and the number
of times they told each other. But the
old skeleton was there. The course of
their true love did not run smooth; some
J objection on the part of Miss Rose's
father was the rock which broke up the
stream of their love. At times Ros c
cried and complained of her fathers I'M
kindness, and to sooth her my master
had to say many nice things. When
this kind of thing occurred, I could not
help groaning little on my low c, and
sorrowfully vibrating for sweet Miss
Rosie
''This mixture of JOY and sorrow, har-
mony and discord went on for some time.
Sad to relate, during one OF their more
than usually emotional scenes was so
overcome that I fell to the floor and
cracked somewhere. This was great
trouble to me, but when found that my
fall had been the means of making Rosie
forget her grief, felt that l had not
fallen in vain. On investigation, my
master found that my back was broken
and would have to be taken out. An
expert repairer, he accomplished this
successfully, but being pressed for time
he left me standing in the corner with
out my back. / remained in this state
several days, ruminating on my hard luck,
when heard footsteps hurriedly ap-
preaching the door, and in came Master
Walter and Miss Rosie.
"'Oh, what shall we dor said Rosie,
with little sob; my father, having seen
US, is sure to follow, and if he finds me
here, he will take me away and we shall
be separated forever. oh, Walter. what
can we dor
"This is awkward, Rosie, replied my