The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1892-10-21
REUBEN.

It was legacy from the father who had
died before Reuben was 10 years old and
left him to the care of Uncle Josiah, the
brother of Reuben's l0ng-dead mother The
strongest memory Reuben retained of his
father was mind-picture of white-haired
man sitting up In bed, with the beloved
violin in his hands, filling the attic-room
with sweet sounds. He was partially para
lived even then, and even later, when his
fingers became helpless his heart broke
and he died.
Then Uncle Josiah came from the coun-
try to the great city and took the lad nome.
At the bottom of the hair trunk containing
ali Reuben's possessions, were safely stored
the violin and case, with score OF music
the dead musician had left the boy.
On the farm in Jersey Reuben found
rough, kindly welcome. Aunt Polly cried
a little over the orphan; Sue and Jennie,
kindly maidens. kissed and caressed him,
and Daisy. whose blue eyes were like twin
violets. stole shyly up to the dark-halred
lad and slipped slice of cake into his hand.
1t was busy hive, the old farmhouse.
where no drOnes found place.
Uncle Josiah disapproved altogether OF
the violin. Never had he heard Of fiddler
blowing field or raising stock. Never mad
he seen any practical good come from scrap
ing caIgut, and more than once instant de-
struction was threatened TO Reuben's one
pleasure. He grew afraid to raise the sweet
sounds he loved inside the farmhouse, anu
would steal away to practice the lesson his
father had taught him by the bro0kside. In
the whispering woods of the shady lanes.
Nobody loved his violin but Daisy. Daisy
would softly touch the strings and listen
with parted lips and shifting color when
Reuben woke the spirits of music with his
bow. Sue and Jennie did not object to a
| good, lively dance tune; but only DAISY
would follow Reuben into the world where
| dreams tioated into the sweet melodies, aud
| the bow and strings talked IN muslcs own
language. Daisy alone knew Of the lonely
walks with the dear compani'n; and
| Daisy's lips would culver and her blue eyes
| fill when the boy whispered In her ear OF
| his heart hunger.
Years passed by and the boy became a
| man.
Scarcely worth his salt" Uncle Josiah
pronounced him, and yet loved him well Tor
| his gentle obedience, his willingness to per-
| form any task, however diStasteful.
"a dreamy gawk. in everybOdy's way"
| Sue and Jennie said. but saved the choicest
| bit OF dainty country fare for Reuben.
"a poor, weakly body" Aunt Polly said,
| and her touch was soft on Reuben's hair,
while she sighed gently, convinced that the
| pale thin cheeks would never grow round or
| rosy, but 'lkely rest under the daisies"
| she thought, ptyingiy.
Only Daisy really understood the sensi-
| tive nature, the tender heart, the starving,
| longing intellect. Only Daisy grieved wnen
| the long, delicate hands blistered and bled
| over rough work and would never harden.
| Only DAISY, as maiden hood came, shrIned
| Reuben in her heart Of hearts, and knew
| no other could ever take his place.
Only Daisy filed Renben's heart! or all
| the rough life around him there was only
one gentle influence to keep his heart from
| breaking The fair, blue-eyed girl with
| hair like floss silk alone understood him
borrowed from the minister and eagerly
perused. Daisy alone kept him from utter
| loneliness.
So these young hearts in eleven long years
| learned the story of mutual truth, mutual
| dependence. sympathy, tenderness ana de-
votion which we call love.
On the day when Reuben was q he told
| Uncle Josiah he loved Daisy and Uncle DO
| siah sadly shook his head.
You'll never be able to keep a wife,
| Reuben" he said. Never! / love Daisy
too well to trust her to you. Why. look at
| 1t, lad you've never earned full days
wages since you came TO the farm. If you'd
| give up your foolish tiddling, now. you
| might make something OF yourself; but as
| long as your heart is in that saving and
| scraplng you'll be good for naught else. It's
| my advice 10 you to smash the hddie over
| The first rock, and then I'll talk toyou about
Break his violnl Destroy his dearest
| friend. his comforter But for Daisy
| What would he not do for Daisy?
Perhaps Uncle Josiah was right. Per-
hans. IL he bad no outlet for the dreams that
routine of farm drudgery that was such
heart-breaking problem to him.. Perhaps.
when all the phantoms that broke into
reality upon his violin were driven away
he would be tile practical farmer to whom
Uncle Josiah would give Daisy
Musing thus, very sOrrowfully, Reuben
took the violin from It's case and went to
the woods, to aD opening the country folks
called the fairy ring. Here he sat upon a
huge stone and played HIS farewell-a dirge
Of hope.
Great tears fell over his pale cheeks as
the weird, melancholy strain echoed
through the space around him. Then he
wrapped the violin once. twice. in his arms.
kissed it tenderly and lifted il high in the
air to smash il on the rock. But his heart
failed him. His arm dropped nerveless at
his side and he stood motionless looking at
his fathers legacy.
Suddenly there stepped into the opening
an elderly man. gray haired and dark eyed
and dressed in cty-cut attire.
$50 you would smash your violin?" he
said. you had better sell it, or, better
still, play on it. Was it you | heard playing
as / came through the wood?"
lto' was pluulus my flUliu lhIc-
we'll"
Him. Play again for me-"
Gladly Reuben lifted his violin and drew
the bow across II.
II will play you the Carnival of the
Birds he said.
And there rose upon the air such twt-
tering chorus, here saucy sbrill, there
busy chirp, then r0ulade, till the very air
seemed alive with sOngsters, while under
all sweet melody throDbed and melted
into softest strains.
This is the Brooks Hymn" Reuben
said, and the ripping stream was Knocked
and echoed in faint, fantastic music
"WhO wrote these?' the stranger asked.
"They were never written. They came
from the heart" was the quiet reply. II
will play you some written music"
Again the violin obeyed the bow as the
works Reuben had studied from his faith
er's music rose upon the summer air.
"And you were about to break your vio-
lin ?" the stranger said.
Eyes; for | can never be a farmer while
my brain is full of music" was the reply.
"Ahi You want to be q farmer, then.
Would you not rather be musicianP"
Reuben's eyes glistened. Long he and the
stranger talked, and the sun was setting
when he turned his face homeward
Uncle JOSIAH" he said, when all the
chores were done and the farmer rested on
the moonlit porch, IF In year can bring
you proof that l can support Daisy, will
you give her to me2"
II WILL" was the hearty reply. Have
you broken your fiddle Reuben ?"
mo, and l am going TO leave you to-