The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1893-05-05
THE LITTLE VlOLlNIST.
How He Secured Assistance for
His Dying Mother.

| AL1o ~ AAS9 AAAOoA1OAs
On the outskirts of great city in
Germany there lived poor widow and
her little son. Mrs. Aurlich earned a
scant livelihood with her needle, and
little Berthold made himself useful by
| gathering wood, running errands and
working in their small garden during
the summer. The warm weather was q
pleasant season, but in the winter when
work was scarce they were often hun
CRY.
But Berthold was not unhappy; he
lived in an ideal world, heaven of
harmony. For him all nature was an
orchestra; he heard music in the whis-
perings of the great pines in the for
est behind his cottage home, in the
evening zephyrs, in the tinkling
streams, in the Ginning of the church
bells in the village near by. At night
a mighty chorus of unseen minstrels
lulled him to sleep.
Mrs. Aurlich's health began to fail
and she was finally obliged to give up
the little work she already had. One day
when Berthold was absent in the for
| SoU SdIICIlhS "oou llC was uSUdlIctl
until quite late He hurried home, and
as he approached the cottage he saw
that there was no light shining from
the window.
With an anxious heart he hurried into
the house and called his mother, but re-
ceived no reply. He groped his way
across the room through the darkness
and stumbled over her, where she lay
unconscious on the cold floor.
Very much alarmed, the lad knelt
down and chafed her hands and
sprinlzled some water on her face After
awhile Mrs. Aurlich opened her eyes
and, assisted by Berthold, managed to
reach the bed, and for several days the
lad was her only nurse:
The poor woman did not seem to i'm
prove. She needed some nourishing
food and medicine, but these cannot be
obtained without money Berthold
begged her to allow him to go into the
village and borrow some money from a
relative residing there, but this she
would not consent to; she was very
proud, and the relations between her.
self and her relatives had not been very
| SllCC BIC ldU UcCOllG JOOT.
1t was q very cold dayI the sky was
dark and threatening, and Berthold
heaped the little fireplace with wood,
but the heat all went up the chimney
and the house was very cold.
He had only a crust of black bread
for his breakfast; the last of the loaf
was nearly gone and he had put the
last grain of chicory coffee into the pot
to make a cup for his mother. There
was no milk or sugar for it and when
the mixture was hot he went over to
the bed.
Dear 1nother!'' he whispered, softly.
She lay very still, her eyes closed, her
hands crossed over her breast She
looked like the picture of dead saint
he had seen in the art gallery of the
city which he had once visited with his
father. The sick woman opened her
eyes, and, smiling, began to caress his
hand,
"Will you have some coffee, mother?"
To please him she assented, but when
he brought it to her she could not drink
it; her stomach was too weak to retain
it.
LIEU ~ 1CSU Ou t11S ltOlc, SIG WILLIS
pered; sit is too hot. l will drink it by
and by"
The tears came to the boys eyes, for
he knew that the mixture was too
strong for her and that she needed some
light and nourishing food. He tucked
the clothes about her and smoothed the
pillow. His mother thanked him with
a smile and kissed him tenderly.
"You are good boy" she whispered.
The lad went to replenish the fire,
and when this was done he saw that his
mother was asleep. There was deep
flush on her face and her fingers were
working nervously.
Berthold sat on low stool before the
fire in deep thought for some timej sud-
denly he arose and went over to little
cupboard. He took from it something
covered with an old coat; this he un-
rolled and disclosed violin, small and
yellow with age.
He examined the strings carefully,
and then placed it at his shoulder and
drew the back of the bow noiselessly
across the strings. Suddenly he heard
a low tap at the door, and without wait
ing to lay aside the instrument he went
and opened the door.
Good morning, Gretchen!" he ex-
claimed; ''come in and shut the door
softly. My mother is asleep"
Gretchen, the daughter of their near
est neighbor, entered the cottage. She
was about the same age as Berthold;
her eyes We're blue as the skies and her
hair yellow as gold. In her hands she
carried something wrapped up in
towel
What have you there?"
Mother sent over bowl of rabbit
SOUP" replied the girl, land she said 1
might stay over here all day and clean
up the house"
"She is very good" said Berthold; 81
am afraid my mother is going to die!"
Now, the lad was a manly little fell
low, but he loved his mother very much,
and he felt so miserable that he sat
down on the stool and began to sob.
Dear Berthold," cried Gretchen, "do
not cry. The good God will spare your
mother, am sure. Do not let her see
you grieving, for that will only distress
her."
you are right" said the lad, rising
from the stool and brushing away the
tears from his face. ''Now, Gretchen,
/ am going to ask favor of you"
''Of me?"
YES said the lad, sit is this: am
going away for few hours, and !
want you to stay with my mother until
| return"