The Olneyville tribune. (Providence, R.I.) 1893-189?, 1893-10-14

stained glass windows and gave mean-
choly tingc TO it all One ray from the
setting sun as it broke through the clouds
fell fair upon the old mans head and
gilded his snow-white hair until he
looked almost young again. The lines
in his face seemed to fade away as hc
talked along in his low, sweet voice.
For a time almost forgot the reality OF
the world outside and was lost in the
enthusiasm and fervor Of the old musi
clans story. | can give you pretty
good idea Of what the old man said, for
it made deep impression on me at the
time; ! thought then that would write
il up some time. But ! haven't. Ii
would seem almost a sacrilegc TO treat his
ideal any less earnestly than he did. i
couldn't write that sort Of story, any
way, but I'll try to tell it 10 you just as
he told it To me.
Yes, can tell you his story, now that
he is dcad-pOor boy-so full OF life and
hope and promise that it seems almost as
though il could not be.
! | must have grown TO love him more
than knew. for now that he is dead, |
! feel indeed that have lost friend. Yet
| never knew him, never spoke to him.
lie was "a young man, while my youth
! has gone so far into the past that it seems
as though never had been young He
was man Of the world, with many
friends, and what am / but poor, old
tired out musician, living by adding what
little can 10 the pleasure Of others! !
have looked upon his face for the last
time lie is dead, and they have carried
him forth from this great church, where
his friends were gathered together TO
show as best they could the love and re-
spect they bore him. We heard the
minister say those words Of consolation
and hope. old, yet ever new, 81 am the
resurrection and the life What more
could he have said?
Now oil are gone and you and ! are
left alone up here, / with my thoughts
and the memories OF other years that
come flooding over me. The light from
those rich-colored windows is already
beginning to fade away and these evening
shadows give an added gloom to this
dreary place. Not one of all that crowd
that was so lately here ever gave thought
to the old musician, and yet it seems to
me that knew him better than any Of
them. | knew his hopes and fears and
| knew what the sorrow. was that spoiled
his life and made him glad to die.
There was one other, but she learned it
when it was too late.
saw her, too, to-day. She was pale
and sad-cyed and when the voice of the
singer rang out rich .IHi clear, bearing
aloft the words of that sweet hymn Of
hope, "And is this all Z" felt somehow
that she was weeping and that she knew
! it was not all.
! remember so well the first time that
saw her She was but a girl then, just
growing into womanhood, and was one
of the musicians who played at the ball
given in honor of her first appearance in
! society. Yes, she was what they call n
society girl, but she looked to me like
! one who was able TO lead and not to fol-
low others. Well born, rich and beauti-
full, life must have loGked very fair to
her. remember she was spoken of as
the most successful debutante OF the sea-
soE. She was beautiful, Of that there
was no doubt, with dark hair and eyes
that would start man to improvsing
|
and tender strains, but with here and
there jarring note. for there was some
thing about her eyes that seemed out OF
place-a proud, ambitious look that did
not become young girl and that made
her look older than she really was. She
was that sort OF woman that might in
spire man to noble deeds if she would,
or else to wreck all beside rather than
to lose her; whom a man might love,
and, losing, die for. ] knew that even
though was but n lonely old musician.
| often wonder whether the people ut
receptions and balls in the great world
ever give thought to the musicians
sitting off 10y themselves and playing
for their pleasure. DO they ever realize
for moment that we see all that goes on
about us and are the unseen audience of
many a farce and comedy and tragedy.
Many ball room is the scene of events
that may make or mar life, aud we
musicians, left out of account and
screened, perhaps, behind flowers and
foliage, are often the closest and Most
interested spectators. A queer life is
this of ours, going from house To house,
from reception to ballroom, playing our
parts in scenes in which we really have
no part. Yet we are always there. Dur
ing the gay season we may see the same
faces again and again, day after day,
night after night, until we set to know
them well. New faces come, familiar
faces disappear from our view, yet many's
the one we follow with interest. Wese
people meeting for the first time. They
talk idly for while. dance together
and, perhaps, never sec one another
again. Or the following winter
we see them together everywher,
we go and, seeing one, we know righ
well we will see the other not far away
one can tell great deal If one only sees
a persons eye light up as If it secs I
wishedfor face appear. That may b'
all, or TIE friendship may ripen int
more. So the world wags, and so i
will continue to wag on long after IN!
fingers have lost their cunning an,
grown stiff and cold.
How oft5fl have played right merrill!
| nj A vnun,, ,,irl'S first lanra npi latar an