The record-union., 1891-09-26
THE STORY OF A VIOLIN.

ing my napkin (cnanged once week. In
a ring recognizable by myself and the
waiter, my bottle of Beaune (replenished
more frequently, and my accustomed
seat-at this restaurant of mine, with its
confusion of tongues, its various, foreign
clients, amid all the coming and going,
the nightly change of faces, there were
some which remained the same; persons
with whom, though one might never have
spoken, one had. nevertheless, from the
mere continuity Of juxtaposition, GER
tain sense of intimacy.
There was one old gentleman in partic-
uiar. aS inveterate as myself, who espe-
clally aroused my interest. A courteous,
punctual, mild old man he was, with an
air which deprecated notice. who con-
Versed each evening for a minute or two
with the proprietor as he rolled, always
at the same hour, a Valedictory cigarette,
IN language that arrested my ear by its
strangeness, and which proved to be his
own, Hungarian, who addressed brief
remark to me at times, half apologeti-
cally, IN the preciSeSt of English. we sat
next each other at the same table, came
and went at much the same hour, ana Tor
a long while our intercourse was re-
Stricted to formal courtesies, mutual IN
quiries after each others health, few
urbane structures on the climate. The
little old gentleman, in spite OF his
aspect of shabby gentility, perhaps
even because of this suggestion of fallen
fortunes, bore himself with pathetic
erectneSs, almost haughtiIy. tie
did not seem amenable to advances. 1t
was long time before / knew him well
enough to rightly value this appearance,
the timid defenses behind which very
shy and delicate nature took refuge from
a worlds coarse curiosity. l can smile
now, with q certain sadness, when re-
mind myself that at one time was some
what In awe of M. Maurice Cristich and
his little air of proud humility. Now
that his place in that dim, foreign eating
house knows him no more, and his yell
low napkin-ring, with it's distinguishing
number, has been passed ON to some GUS
toner, l have it in my mind TO set down
my impressions Of him, the short history
of our acquaintance. 1t began with an
exchange of cards, a form to which he
evidently attached a ceremonial value.
Tor alter that piece OF ritual his manner
underwent a sensible sOftening and he
showed by many subtle, indefinabIe
shades in his courteous address that he
old me the honor of including me in his
friendship. I have his card before me
now; large, oblong piece OF pasteboard,
with NJ. Maurice Crisnch, Theater Royal,
inscribed upon it amid many fiorid -four
1SHeS. IL eIldDl6u me 10 10TH my ITSJ
definite notion OF his calling, upon which
/ had previously wasted much conjecture;
though [ had all along, and rightly as it
appeared, associated him in some manner
with music.
In time he was good enough to inform
me further. He was musician, a violin
ist; and formerly in his own country, he
had been a composer. But whether for
some lack in him OF original talent, or of
patience, whether for some groSsneSS in
the public taste, on which the nervous
delicacy and refinement of his execution
was lost, he had not continued. He had
been driven by poverty to London, had
given lessons, and then for many years
had played second violin in the orchestra
of the opera.
1t Is not much, monsieur?' he OBJ
served deprecatin gly, smoothing his hat
with the cuff of his frayed coat-sleeve.
but it is sufficient, and l prefer it to
teaching. In effect they are very charm
2ng, the seraphic young girls Of your
country! But they seem TO care little for
music; and / am a, difficult MASTER and
have not enough patience. Once, you see,
a long time ago, ! had q perfect pupil,
and perhaps that spoiled me. Yesi
prefer the theater, though it is less profit
able. It is not as it once was" he added.
with half sigh, 81 am no longer ambi-
1ious. Yes, monsieur, when 1 was young
1 was ambitious. / wrote a symphony
and several concertos. / even brought
out at Vienna an opera which thought
would make me famous; but the good
folk of Vienna did not appreciate me,
and they would have none Of my music.
They said it was Anticipated, nay opera,
and absurd, and yet it seemed to me
good. / think that Gluck, that great
genius, would have liked it; and that is
what | should have wished. All how
long ago it seems, that time when I was
ambitious! But you must excuse me,
uonsleur-your good company makes
me garrulous. [ must be at the theater.
II am not in my place at the half-hoar
they fine me-two shillings and six
pence! that is a good deal, you know
monsieur"
In spite of his defeats, his long and in
enectual struggle with adversity, NJ.
Cristich, ! discovered. as our acquaint-
ance ripened, had none of the spleen and
little of the vanity of the unsuccessful
artist. He seemed in his forlorn old age
20 have accepted his discontinue with
tIouching resignation, having acquired
eneitner cynicism nor indifference, He
fwas simply an innocent old man, in love
with his violin and with his art, who had
.acquiesced IN his disappointment, and it
was impossible to decide whether he even
believed in his talent or had not silently
accredited the verdict of musical Vienna
which had condemned his opera in those
scariousness of the London opera was the
,pne fact which ever knew to excite him
30 expressions of personal resentment.
fWhen its doors were closed his hard
<)overty Ut was the only occasion when
ele protested against it drove him, with
ais dear instrument and his accomplished
1lngerS, into the orcheStIas of lighter
tnouses, where he was compelled to play
Emusic which he despised. He grew silent
and rueful during these periods of irk-
some servitude, rolled innumerable Gig
farettes, which he smoked with flerceness
and great rapidity. When dinner was
done he was often volubly indignant, in
Hungarian. TO the proprietor.
But with the beginning of the season
mis- mood lghtened. He bore himself
more sprucely, and would leave me to
assist at representation of Don Gio-
Tanni," or "Tannhauser," with face
which was almost radiant. I had known
him year before it struck me that I
tshould like 10 see him in his professional
capacity. / told him OF my desire little
<iiihdently, not knowing how my pur-
s)ose might strike him. He responded
graeiously, but with an air of intrigue,
laying a gentle hand upon my coat
sleeve and bidding me wait. A day or
two later, as we sat over our coffee, NJ.
.Cristich with a hesitating urbanity Of
1ered me an order.
IF you would do me the honor to accept
st, monsieur? 1t is as tall and good one
4 have never asked for one before, all
these years; SO they gave 1t to me easily
You see, l have few friends. It is for
tomorrow, as you observe. l demanded
jt especially; il is an occasion of great in
1erest to me-ah! an occasion! You will
?"
"You are too good, NJ. Cristich ~ 7
said with genuine gratitude, for indeed
1he gift came in season, the opera being
hof n I