The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1892-12-03
STORY OF A WALTZ.

Jacques offenbach, the author Of the follow.
Ing story. Is the we'll known composer Of light
opera:]
My mother and sisters used to lull
me to sleep by singing to me a sweet
slow waltz. had never heard ali
of it. The first eight bars were the
only parts of it that I knew. Per-
haps those loved ones themselves
were ignorant of the rest. These
eight bars haunted me-fxed them
selves on my brain with all the
greater force because my charmed
heart opened wide all the doors to
them. Did not each note bring to
me thousand tender recollections9
When they fitted through my mind
I saw our old home-my fathers
home. ! heard the voices of all those
from whom I had long been sepa-
rated, whom I had loved and who
had loved me most warmly.
was in Paris all alone, earning
my daily bread by playing the VIC
loncello in the orchestra of the Onera
Comique. I was then at an ACE
when most children are still at
school, with many years of school
days still before them. Although I
was quietly jogging ON toward the
future, regretted the past. Soil
tude was sometimes very oppressive
to me.
This waltz, though nothing very
wonderful, had at last come to as
sumo proportions in my mind. It
had ceased to be a mere waltz. II
had become almost prayer. which
I hummed from morning to night.
not as a supplication to heaven, but
because it seemed to me that when I
repeated it my family heard me, and
when it echoed in my memory I
could have sworn it was my loved
ones at home who responded to me.
l cannot express how eagerly I de-
sired to hear the whole of that waltz
l could not deceive myself. NV con-
limitations seemed charming to me
when extemporized them, but when
I repeated them they spoke to me
only OF myself, and nothing of my
loved ones at home, nor of the de-
parted days of childhood.
Years came and went, but those
eight bars did not fade away from
my memory; on the contrary, they
seemed deeper craven on it with
each succeeding year. /
One day, feeling that I could stand
it no longer, I set out for home to
hunt for the waltz AS there an.
peared to be no special cause for nv
journey, my father and the rest Of
the family covered me with caresses.
They attributed my return to an in
crease of affection for them. They
were mistaken, for loved them so
dearly that could not, for the life
of me, have loved them more than /
did.
dared not breathe to them one
word about the waltz, lest I should
destroy their illusions. It seemed to
me should wound their feelings
were l to refer to it, Those who
know what it is to love will under
stand what mean.
One evening my father, who was
fond OF hearing me play, asked for
some music. He was learned and
severe judge, and always felt lit
tie nervous at being asked to play
before him. That evening, however,
1 did not wait to be pressed, and
without any prelude to make my
fingers agile l played the famous
bars of the waltz which prosecuted
meg
is it possible2" said my father.
"Do you still remember Zimmer's
waltz2"
"Zimmerv I exclaimed. us that
waltz by zimmera Are you sure of
thats Who was Ziinmer?"
thinner was a young composer
who in times past had some vogue"
replied my rather. "He began un.
usually well and was becoming pop
ular when he disappeared, and no
body knows what became of him."
do you know the waltz from
beginning to endl"
"No, I do not"
! "How could you, with your pro.
digious memory, have forgotten ita"
For the excellent reason that I
never knew it. Your poor dear
mother sang it to put you to sleep,
and dare say she never knew more
of it than those eight bars"
The next day I visited every music
shop in Cologne.