Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1888-10-26

for your troubles, a friend to whom you
can open your heart and who will re-
spond like an angel when you ask him
questions
''And it is-2"
"This, Doroschenka, this !" and open
ing his talas the good Abisch drew forth
from its folds violin far from appear.
ing new, and at the same time pressed
into his hands the bow.
"Ah, thank you," said Vlasin, Gisap-
pointed, 81 am unable 10 make it serve
me-"
''Pardon me, it is unnecessary that
you should know how to play it."
unnecessary then is the violin en-
chanted2" said the young man, still I'M
decided. The old musician shrugged
his shoulders, smiled and, turning away,
disappeared under cover of the heritage
| of the steppe, like a bird that regains IN
haste the shelter of its leafy covert.
Doroschenka remained alone with his
pain and his violin, in the plain imme nse
and solitary, contemplating with the
strangest and most iDexplicable senti-
ments the mysterious present of his old
friend. AT last he took courage and
lifted it to his shoulder.
why should l not" he said to him.
self; nobody can hear me-nobody
|
to render upon the wood that he has
created harmonious sounds that will
chant His praises.
The steppe, green and undulating. I'M
rolled before him as far as the eye could
reach, the spirit of the Spring was in
his soul, the bees buzzed by hundreds in
a sort of pious murmuring, 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 the
chords across the bow, and listened. 1t
seemed to him as if the whole world
had hushed itself to pay attention.
Soon the notes, undecided and hes
| itating at first, came fast and pressing;
1t 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 sonorcus,
echoing body of the instrument in his
his hands. He comprehended nothing
of this miracle that had happened to
him-he who had received lessons from
no one.
No matter; he remarked there in the
midst of that nature so suddenly reborn
of the liberty that possessed him-the
liberty of the cage, king of the air; of
the Cossack, king of the desert.
In the village or at work it was with
the solicitude of miser that he hid his
treasure from the eyes of all. bnt when
he found himself alone again in the shad-
ows of the forest or in the immensely of
the plain, when no eye saw him, no ear
heard him, he opened his long overcoat
of thick cloth, took the instrument that
he carried upon his heart and played
1t was thus that upright one evening,
under heaven pure and studded with
stars, he drew from the harmonious
chords notes of inexpressible sweetness
and melancholy. All noises were hushed
about him; the insects that wavered al.
ways above that emerald sea troubled
not even by the whirring of wing the
silence impressive and sublime. Vlasin
dreamed as he played, and, dreaming,
saw before him the shades of heroes
whose corpses had once lain thick as
leaves upon tn soil in those deadly
struggles between the Tartars and the
OttOmanS.
Then the steppe began to talk to him,
and the wind that passed across the
long grasses to bring him the echo of a
plaintive voice, and soon the words of
an old song Ga nearly forgotten song by
Hmielnizki, the Cossack), that f1Oated F..
in the air all sweet with perfume. The
voice approached always, and suddenly !
a charming head emerged from the green
waves. fairy of the steppe, perhaps,
her eyes, dark and soft, expressing pro
found establishment; her face of ravish- !
ing beauty; her breast covered with
strings of coral and sequins OF gold. A
fairy of the steppe? By no means. for
the hair that was imprisoned under the |
silken kerchief was brown-not blonde. |
like ripening wheat-and she carried |
upon her gay-co' ored robe a soukmanna
of cloth blue as the heavens
The heart of Nlasin bounded in his |
breast, while Dodena, motionless three |
steps from him, plucked flower, then
another, then still third, striving to .
conceal her trouble.
1t is thou. then, who playest so |
WELL" she said at last. But Vlasin,
without replying a single word, recon-
menced his melodies, directing his .
steps toward the depths of the steppe,
the enchanted violin, showing itself
truly worthy of its name; the young
girl. fascinated by those ardent and
passionate strains, following by his side
with lingering, hesitating step, then
with one more assured, until presently
she placed her hand upon the arm of
Doroschenka, and when he raised his
voice and sang she sang also and with
u