The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1888-11-17
The Enchanted Violin.

custom to do SO, lie was po5r, it il
true, but poverty is not an infamous
thing, as every one knows. Perhaps
it was because the young girls die
not love him as much as possible, fol
when have you ever seen madcaps ac'
otherwise than thoughtlessly7
Vlasin Doroschenka was a hand
some boy, yes, even the handsemesi
boy in Sotwinka, his features ener
getic and grave, his complexion o
brown amber, his hair thick anC
black cut short upon the brow, form
ing a whole to which two eyes, pro
found and dreamy, gave something
that was singularly gentle and
sympathetic. The young girls, those
pretty Knockers, seeing him alwaysr re
main silent and pensive instead Of
singing and dancing like the Others,
the young girls, l 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 gaze with such persistency, it was
to lend a more attentive 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 was un-
able to find the key.
He didn comprehend it any more
than he comprehended the conduct of
Dodena, the daughter of the rich
Betzkor, who seemed to detest him if
anything more than her companions,
and lifted her lip with a little disdain-
full movement whenever she encount-
cred the poor boy.
Was it to study and penetrate this
charming sphinx that Vlasin con-
cealed himself 30 frequently behind a
tree stump to see her pass, behind q
column to see her pray, and never
took his eyes from her whenever she
was in seeing distance7
One evening Doroschenka was tray
ersing the village, the moon was ur,
and stripping with shadows the foad
that she whitened with her rays,
tipping with silver the corallas of the
sleeping flowers and the margins of
the well. All at once he perceived a
human figure, tall, gaunt, and which
seemed to be striving to hide itself in
the prickly hedge, At the same time
he heard d trembling voice that
stammered out prayers and supplica-
tions. Vlasin, approached and recog-
nized the old Abisch, a 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 d sor-
cerer, but a sorcerer only in the ami=
able acceptance of the word.
''What is the matter with you,
Abisch?" the young man demanded.
What is the matter? What is the
matter with mel" cried the unhappy
artist in despairing voice; "do you
not see for yourselfthat ferocious dog
with my cap in his teeth, and, who
wishes to tear me to pieces?' And
looking closely Vlasin did indeed
discover tiny little pug-dog which
had stopped before Abisch Hnd played
with his property as gayly as any
other young and inexperienced ami
NAL would have done. He chased
him away, however, simply to reas-
sure the old man, who decided then,
but not till then, to quit his refuge
all white with blossoms and sweet
with perfumes.
81 owe you my life, Vlasin!" cried
the good man with effusion; 81 shall
never forget it, / swear it'll" and he
walked away rapidly.
Some time after this ne came upon
Doroschenka alone upon the steppe,
seated upon a hillock dreaming.
"What is the matter with you,
Vlasin" demanded the violinist in
turn.
"What is the matter with me" re-
peated Doroschenka, "God knows it,
doubtless, but lam ignorant OF it.
All the same, little important as
it is, / should like to know why every
one dislikes me, and why the young
girls turn away from me as i'll had
the evil eye?"
'Is it SOL" replied Abisch, "eh bien!
then am going to give you a conf
dant for your troubles, a friend to
whom you can open your heart and
who will respond like an angel when
you ask him questions.
''This, Doroschenka, thisl" and
opening his talas the good Abisch
drew from it's folds violin tar from
new, and at the same
time pressed into his hands the bow.
"Ah, thank you," said Vlasin, dis
81 am unable to make it
serve mel"
PARDON me, 1t is unnecessary that
you should know how to play it!'
Unnecessary! then is the violin en-
said the young man, still
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
immense and solitary, contemplating
with the strangest and most inexpli-
cable sentiments the mysterious pres
emit of his old friend. At last he took
and lifted it to his shoulder.
"Why should l not?" he said to
himself; nobody can hear memo
body but God-and perhaps it is not
q crime to render upon the wood that
he has created harmonious sounds
that will chant His praises"
The steppe, green and undulating,
lnrolled before him as the eye could
reach, the spirit of the Spring was in
mis- soul, the bees buzZed by hundreds