Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1891-01-03
LOVE In i MIST.

1yfoi. The village presses close down to
the water, almost as if it we're afraid of
the mountains behind, which rise up and
up, cutting the sky in jagged lines. One
cannot help fancying that the people who
live in the fresh white houses must be
different from others. The deep green's
and blues of the lake under the sun, and
its wonderful silver lights under tie
moon, must surely gladden. the eyes and
hearts of those who watch them, and
the rugged mountains are too near to let
them forget that their lake lies far from
the stars.
Even the travellers who come and bask
here for a few days gain something of
the peaceful and happy atmosphere, and
leave their troubles and their jealousies
behind the range.
Not many come, for the place is little
known, and there are only two inns In
the village. The better of these has a
broad yeranda hanging over the water,
and the FISHES swim right up to 1t, when
people dining there are kind enough to
throw little bits of bread to them. 1t is
here that the steamer from Russbach
lands new visitors and takes away those
who are going back to their town lives.
On the balcony there is always some
hustle and excitement, bat 8 few yards
away st. Sebald resumes its quiet, rsstful
aspect and the struggling street winds
under one or two wide arches, past the
inn, up BY the old white church, and
away till the houses are stopped by the
mountains. Some stone steps turn of at
right angles and lead into what should
be the churchyard. But the church is
built on top Of steep rock, springing
straight out of the water, and there is no
space for graves or flowers, only for a
kind of terrace bounded on the left by a
low white wall.
Here, in old days, the monks from the
ruined monastery close by used to walk.
but they CLEARLY did not wish to shut out
all the beauties of water and mountain and
sky, for they pierced the wall by series of
low broad arches, and made for themselves
wonderful gallery eff pictures framed in
white. The world seems wide enough here
for any aspiration, and its beauty radiant
enough TO satisfy any longing; but il is i'm
possible to tell how the peculiar local in
huence is felt-whether it reaches the heart
through the eyes or through the ears alone,
or whether perhaps the very air itself may
catch its character and breathe its peace or
its sternDess.
In one of the smallest houses of the vii
lake, lived man who could see none of
these things, for he was blind
He had lost his sight when only II years
old, and till then had lived in the plains,
so the only images left in his mind We're of
green stretches and shady trees. Mountains
and lakes he had never known, but he
built up his surroundings out of the ma
terial ready to his minds eye, raising levels
into hills, and spreading brooks into wide
n Ha Ia l;cfa,, fNr
to the ripple of little blue. waves against
his strip of garden, and knew why the
wind never blew on his house from the
back, but always swept over it from the
front. He could tell the fight of house
martin from that of swallow, and long
before he had landed the fish pulling at his
line, knew whether his prize was carp or
trout.
His greatest JOY lay in the myriad noises
of nature, and his fine ear caught and de.
Lighted in as many gradations of sound as
an artist could see in color. The wind mov-
ing in the tree-tops, the vague murmurs of
the lake, the humming of little insects, the
distant cries of children, all these he lis
tened to and found in them harmony
and sometimes when his fingers were wan.
deriDg over the either, he would play
strange phrases, unlike all known music,
but breathing a curious close companion
sup VIII Tic FOlC6 vi NbtUIe- III dis lonely
life he had, indeed, listened more to her
voice than to any other; and she had
tausht him gently and with loving care,
telling him many OF her secrets which she
withholds from those who might read her
face if they would. He had begun learn
ing his instrument the either, before he
lost his eyes, and, in the misery which fol-
lowed, the music which he could make was
his great consolation. After time it be-
came his support, too, for Sebald, finding
dependence on bis parents irksome. deter
mined TO gain his own livelihood. He
travelled about the country with a singer,
and they wandered far from home, earning
money as they went. But the singer grew
tired of the partnership, and when they
reached the mountains suggested that his
friend should stay behind at the next vii
lsge. The blind man made no opposition,
only stipulated that ne should be allowed
to choose where he would stop. When
they walked into the village of St Sebald,
This is the place for me" Sebald said to
himself; sit must be meant So"
His companion found lodgings for him,
and, with many promises to come and
fetch him in the autumn, left him there,
with his share of their meager profits, to
get on as best he could. 1t was not diff
cult. The young man, with his tall slight
figure and handsome face, had a strong at
traction about him; and when he sat play
ing, with his head thrown back, his sensi-
tive mouth showing between his golden
beard and mous'ache. passers-by felt con.
strained 20 stop and listen; and when they
listened his cause was gained. Not that
his music stirred the heart, or reused the
mind, but there was peculiar charm in it
which held his hearers spell bound. II
was as if they actually saw the woods and
skies and streams whose sounds he inter-
preted for them, and hardly knowing why,
forgot all the indoor part of their lives as
they listened. The music was almost pa
gan, but it was fresh, and i. was clear. One
other power he possessed; he could play
chants and hymns as no one had heard
sounds rose in pure imprisoned fight as
if from the heart of bird, carrying no
weight of earthly feeling with them. Very
soon Sehald and his either became quite
famous in the village, and the landlord of
the inn on The lake pressed him to play on
the balcony whenever his guests were sit
ling there. The Captain of the steamboat,
too, invited him on board, hoping he
might enliven the journey for the passsu-
gers. So gulden enough were put down
beside him to keep him, summer and win
ter. He was happy; the sounds Of the
water were revelation to him, everyone
was kind to him. He learned to fish con-
tentedly for hours, and could find his way
about from place to place with unerring
step. He used to call himself Sebald Of
st. Sebald in his dreams, and wonder if he
could compose a hymn to his patron saint.
Then a new thing came into his life.
The daughter of his landlady in the village
fell in love with him, She was fair Ger
man girl, kind, good hearted, gay, with a
deepfund of tender helpfuiness in her ma
ture. 1t was she who led Sebald about the
place until be knew his way. 1t was she
who cooked little tempting dishes for him
when he was tiled; it was she who counted
his money, and kept it for bin. They
grew TO be firm friends.
One evening she told him that her
mother had found a place for her as nur-
sery maid to some = i people in Russbach,
and with that shs Drrst out CRYING. and he
Nl6denlu 1,rdl- ...c..- q. - 4l...a -. 80.