Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1894-07-14

thralling possession he takes Of their very
spirit All the passion and pathos and Wild
Tess ana longing had found an inspired in
terpreter; and those who listened TO her
were held by the magic which was her own
secret. and which had won for her such
honor as comes only to few. She under
best with him.
Had she, perhaps, chosen to play his mu-
SIC this evening because she wished TO be
az her best? or was she merely being i'm
peIei by an overwhelming force within
her! Perhaps IL was something Of both
was she wishing to humiliate these peo-
PIE who had received her SO coldly? This
niue niue gin was only human; perhaps there
was something OF that feeling, too. Who
eah zen: But she played as she had never
piayed IN London. or Paris or Berlin, or
New YORK, or Philadelphia.
AT last she arrived at the Carnival and
nose who heard her declared afterward
mat they had never listened to a more
Inagnlhcent rendering The tenderness was
Wbev s'r an the visor was so refined.
mnen the last notes CT that spirited
Marche des Davidsbundler contre les Phil
Isuhs had died away. she glanced at o.
almost dazed '
ana now my favorite piece OF ALL" she
sald, and she at once began the second
novelette,. the finest of the eight but sell
dom played in public
what can one say OF the wild rush Of the
ieadihg theme. and the pathetic longing Of
the lntermezzo?-
The murmuring. dying notes
NAT fall as soft snow on the sea-
The passionate strain that ieenlv going.
heiines the bosom IL trembles through"
What can one say OF those VAGUE aspira-
items and finest thoughts which possess the
very ouliest amongst US when such music
as mat which the little girl had choeen,
catches rs and keeps US, IL only fo- a mass
ing moment, but that moment Of rarest
worth and loneliness in our unlovely livesr
VIVA mar can one say OF the highest music,
except that, like death, IL is the great level
er; 1t gathers us all to It's tender Keeping
and we rest
The little girl ceased playing There was
not sound to be heard; the magic was still
holding her listeners. When at last they
had freed themselves with a sigh they
pressed forward to greet her.
~, mere Is only one person who can play
IKE mat cried the major, with sudden in
splration-"she is Miss Thyra Flowerdew"
Inc little girl smiled
That is my name" she said, simply; and
she slipped out Of the room.
Inc next morning, at an early hour, the
blrd OF Passage took her flight onward,
but she was not destined 70 20 of unob-
served. Oswald Everard saw the little fig
took her.
You little wild birdr' he said; land so
TINS was Your great idea: TO have your fun
OUT OF us All, and then play to us and make
Us Ieei, don't know hov-and then TO GO"
You said the company wanted stirring
UP, she answered; and rather fancy I
have stirred them up."
And what do you Suppose you have done
for me?" he asked.
Il hope l have proved to you that the bel
lows-blower and the organist are sometimes
identical" she answered.
But he shook his head
Little wild tird." he said. you have
given me a great IDEA, and / will tell YOU
what 1t is-to tame you. So goodbye for
the present"
Goodbye" she said. But Wild birds are
not so easily tanned"
Then she waved her hand over head, and
went on her way singing.