Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-12-07
THE ENCHANTED VIOLIN.

that he went always with his gaze bent upon
 the earth, though he had really no other mo- l tive for lowering his eyes than because it
 was his custom to do so. He was poor, it is
 true, but poverty is not an infamous thing,
 as every one knows. Perhaps it was because
 the young girls did not love him as much as
 possible, for when have you ever seen mad
 caps act otherwise than thoughtlesslya Vlasin Doroschenka was handsome boy,
 yes, even the handsomest boy in Sotwinka,
 his features energetic and grave, his com l plexion of brown amber, his hair thick and
 black, cut short upon the brow, forming a
 whole to which two eyes, profound and
 dreamy, gave something that was singu-
 larly gentle and sympathetic. The young | girls, those pretty mockers, seeing him
 always remain silent and pensive instead of | singing and dancing like the others, the young girls, say, having formed their own opinion of Vlasin, did not willingly follow the same road as he.
 Nevertheless, if he showed himself so little
 communicative and lowered his gyaze with
 such persistency, it was to lend more at tentive ear, not to that which was being
 said to him, but to that which was passing
 within him. and the melody which he heard
 there, yelled and mysterious, was an enigma
 to which he as yet Has unable to find tho
 key.
 He did not comprehend it any more than
 he comprehended the conduct of Dodena
 tho daughter of the rica Betzkor, who seemed
 to detest him if anything moro than her com panions, and lifted her lip with a little dis dainful movement whenever she encountered the poor boy.
 Was it to study and penetrate this charm ing sphinx that Vlasin concealed himself so frequently behind a tree stump to see her pass, behind column to sec her pray, and never took his eyes from her whenever she was in seeing distancea
 One evening Doroschenka was traversing the village; tho moon was up and stripping with shadows the road that she whitened with her rays, tipping with silver the coral las of the sleeping flowers and the margins of the we'll All at once he perceived a human figure, tall, gaunJ, and which seemed to be striving to hide itself in the pricklv hedge. At the same time he heard a trembling voice that stammered out prayers and sup pllcatlons. Nlasn approached and recog- nlzed the old Abisch, Q man much respected and loved in the country side because of his double talent of violinist and chiromancer They said, even, that he was something of a sorcerer, but a sorcerer only in the amiable acceptance of the word.
 'What is the matter with you, Abisch?n the young man demanded.
 "What is the mattera What is the matter with mel" cried the unhappy artist in a de spairing voice; ''do you not see for yourself that ferocious dog with my cap in his teeth, and who wishes to tear me to piecesg' And looking closely Vlasin did indeed discover q tiny little pug dog which had stopped before Abisch and played with his property as gayly as any other young and inexperienced animal would havc done. He chased him away, however, simply to reassure the old man, who decided then, but not till then, to quit his refuge all white with blossoms and sweet with perfumes
 Il owe you my life, Vlasin!" cried the good man with etfusion; II shall never forget it, swear it!" and he walked away rapidly.
 Some time after this he came upon Doro- schenka alone upon the steppe, seated upon hillock, dreaming.
 "What is the matter with you, Vlasin7' de- manded the violinist in turn. "What is the matter with mc?'' repeated poroschenka, "God knows it doubtless, but lam ignorant of it. All the same. little important as it is, should like to know why every one dlslikes me, and why the young girls turn away from me as if had the evil | eye"
 ''ls it so2" replied Abisch, "eh bien! then am going to give you a confidant for your troubles, friend to whom you can open your heart, and who will respond like an angel when you ask him questions"
 And it is''-
 "This Doroschenka, this," and opening his talas the good Abisch drew from its folds a violin far from appearing new, and at the same time pressed into his hands the bow,
 "Ah, thank you," said Vlasin, disappointed; Fl am unable to make it serve me-"
 Pardon me; it is unnecessary that you | should know how to play it."
 X "Vnnecessaryl Then is tho violin en- chantedF' said the young man, still unde- | cided. The old musician shrugged his shoul- | ders, smiled and, turning away, disappeared | under cover of the herbage of the steppe, like | ? bird that regains in haste the shelter Of it's | leafy covert.
 Doroschenka remained alone with his pain and his violin in the plain, immense and soli- tary, contemplating with the strangest and most inexplcable sentiments the mysterious present of his old friend. At last he took courage and lifted it to his shoulder.
 Why should I not9" he said to himself. Nobody can hear me-nobsdy but God and perhaps it is not crime to render upon the wood that lie has created harmonious sounds that will chant his praises"
 The steppe, green and undulating, unroIled before him as far as the eye could reach, tho spu11 or the spring was Ill his soul, the bees buzzed by hundreds in sort of pious mur- while above him sounded the clear song of the birds, losing itself in the blue air; the light warm and golden. Vlasin rose up and, throwing glance about him, drew tho bow across the chords and listened. It seemed to him as if the whole world had hushed itself to pay attention.
 Soon the notes undecided and hesitating at first. came fast and pressing; it was like the vanishing of an evil charm under which he, Doroschenka, until then had been bound and fastened. He perceived it himself, this wealth of dormant melody that was in him, and which he made to pass into the sonorous, echoing body of the instrument in his hands, He comprehended nothing of this miracle that had happened to him-he who had re- celved lessons from no one
 No matter; he remained there in the midst of that nature so suddenly reborn in him playing, singing, in tho full joy of the liberty that possessed him-the liberty of the eagle. king of the air; of tho Cossack, king of the desert.
 In the village or at work it was with the of a miser that he hid his treasure from the eyes of all but when he found him self alone again ill the shadows of the forest or In the immensity of the plain, when n eye saw him, no ear heard him ba ora,,s