Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1894-06-07
A BIRD OF PASSAGE.
By BEATRICE HARRADEN.

young girl came into the salon of the lit
tie hotel at c., in Switzerland, and drew
her chair up TO the fire.
',You are soaked through, " said an cid
erly lady, who was herself trying to get
roasted. You ought to lose no time in
changing your clothes. "
Il have not anything to change, said
the young girl, laughing. "Oh, l shall
soon be dry"
"Havc you lost all your luggage" ask
ed the lady sympathotically.
''No," said the young girl; Il had none
to lose, " and she smiled a little miSchiev-
ously, rs though she knew by instinct that
her companions sympathy would at once
degenerate into suspicion.
II don t mean to say have not II KNAPP
sack, She added considerably 81 have
walked a long distancc-in fact, from Z. =
And where did you leave your compan-
IONS" asked the lady, with a touch of for
giveness in her voice.
Il am without companions, just ms l
am without luggage, laughed the girl.
And then she opened the piano and
struck IL few notes. There was something
carcssing in the way in which She touched
the keys. Whoever she was, she knew
how to make sweet music-Sad music,
too, full of that undctnablc longing, like
the holding out of ones arms to ones
friends in the hopeless distance.
The lady bending over the fire looked
up ut the little girl and forgot that she
had brought neither friends nor luggage
with her. She hcsitatcd for one moment,
and then she took the childish face be
tween her hands and kissed it,
"Thank you, dear, for your music, she
said gently.
'Thc piano is terribly out of tune, " said
the little girl suddenly, and she ran out of
the room and came back carrying her
knapsack.
what are you going to do?" asked her
companion.
II am going to tune the piano, the lit
tie girl said, and she took tuning ham
NOR out of her knapsack and began her
work in real earnest. SIC evidently knew
what she was about and pcgged away Mt
the notes as though her whole life depend
ed on the result.
The lady by the fire was lost in amaze
mcnt. Who could she be? Without lug
gage and without friends and with tun-
ing hammer!
Meanwhile one of the gentlemen had
strollcd into the salon; but hearing the
sound of tuning and being in secret pos
session of nerves, he fed saying, Tho
tuner, by Jove!"
A few minutes afterward Miss Blake,
whose nerves were no secret possession,
FASTENED into the salon and in her usual
imperious fashion demanded instant ST
lencc
81 have just done, " said the little girl.
1.-THE piano was so terribly out of tune !
could not resist the temptation.
Miss Blake, who never listened to what
any one said, took it for granted that the
little girl was the tuner for whom NJ lie
Proprietairc had promised to send, and
having bestowed on her n understanding
nod passed out into the garden, where she
told some of the visitors that the piano had
been tuned at last and that the tuner was
young woman of rather eccentric appear
ance.
Really, it is quite abominable how
women thrust themselves into every pro-
fession," size remarked in her masculine
voice. 1T is SO unfcminine, SO unseemly.'
There was nothing of the feminine about
Miss Blake. Her horsecloth dress, her
waistcoat and high collar and her billy
cock hat wer If the masculine genus.
Even her nerves could not be called femi-
nine, since we learn from two or three doc
tors-taken off their guard-that nerves
are neither feminine nor masculine, but
common.
II should like to see this tuner, " said
one of the tennis players, leaning against
tree
Here she comes, - said Miss Blake as
the little girl was seen sauntcring into the
garden.
The men put up their eyeglasses and
saw little lady with n childish face and
soft brown hair, of strictly feminine APP
pearancc and bearing The goat came to-
ward her and began nibbling at her frock.
She seemed to understand the manner OF
goats and played with him 70 his heart i
content. One Of the tennis players, Os-
wald Everard by name, strolled down to
the bank where she was having her frolic.
Good afternoon, he said, raising his
cap. Il hope the goat is not worrying you.
Poor little fellow. This is his last day OF
play. He is to be killed tomorrow for table
d'hotc. "
"What "A shame" she said Fancy to
be killed. and then grumbled at"
THAT is precisely what we do here, he
said, laughing We grumblc at every.
thing we cat. And | own TO being one OF
the grumpicst. though the lady in the
horsecloth dress yonder follows close upon
my heels. =
''Shc was the lady who was annoyed al
me because l tuned the piano, the little
girl said. still it had to be done. 1t was
plainly my duty. seemed to have come
for that purpose
1T has been confoundedly annoying
having it out Of tune, he said. I've had
to give up singing altogether. But what
strange profession you have chosen.
Very unusual, isn't itS''
Why, surely not, = she answered anus.
cd. 1T seems to me that every other wo.
man has taken to 1t. The wonder to me
is that any one ever scores success. Now,
adays, however, no one could amass a huge
fortune out Of it
NO one. INDEED replied Oswald Ever
ard. laughing. What on earth made you
take to ityt
1t took 70 me. she said simply. II
wrapped mo around with enthusiasm.
could think Of nothing else. ! vowed that
would risc 70 the top 81 my profession
worked dag and night. But it means IN.
cessant toll for years II one wants to make
any headwar
- - IL