The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1894-07-14
VOL. XXIX.-NO. 81.

let us 90 into that brown chalet yonder
and ask for some milk. | am simply
parched with thirst. Thank you, but |
prefer to carry my own flowers. n
"What an Independent little lady you
are he said
at is quite necessary in our profession,
can assure you," she said, with tone of
mischief in her voice. ''That reminds me
that my profession is evidently not looked
upon with any favor by the visitors of the
hotel am heartbroken to think that l
have not won the esteem of that lady in
the billy-cock hat What will she say to
you for coming out with me? And what
will she say of me for allowing you to
come? l wonder whether she will say.
How unfeminine | wish | could hear
herr'
81 don't suppose you care, he said.
"You seem to be wild little bird"
''I don't care what person of that de-
scription says" replied his companion.
"What on earth made you contradict
the Major at dinner last night ?" he asked.
~ was not at the table, but some one told
me of the incident, and 1 felt very sorry
about it. What could you know of Miss
Thyra Flowerdew p
"Well, considering that she is in my
profession, of course l know something
about her," said the little girl.
"Confound it all 7" he said rather rudely.
"Surely there is some difference between
the bellows blower and the organist."
absolutely none," she answered.
"merely variation of the original theme y
As she spoke she knocked at the door
of the chalet, and asked the old dame to
give them some milk. They sat in the
iStu6e, and the little girl looked about and
admired the spinning wheel, and the quaint
chairs, and the queer old jugs, and the
pictures on the wall.
"Ah, but you shall see the other room,
the old peasant woman said, and she led
them into small apartment, which was
evidently intended for study. 1t bore
evidences of unusual taste and care, and
one could see that some loving hand had
been trying to make it real sanctum of
refinement. There was even small piano.
A carved book rack was fastened TO the
wall.
The old dame did not speak at first; she
gave her guests time to recover from the
astonishment which she ielt they must be
experiencing, then she pointed proudly to
the piano.
"I bought that for my daughters, she
said, with a strange mixture of sadness and
triumph. ~ wanted to keep them at home
with me, and saved and saved, and got
enough money to buy the piano. They
had always wanted to have one, and thought
they would then stay with me- They
liked music and books, and l knew they
would be glad to have a room of their own
where they might read and play and study,
and so gave them this corner"
"Well, mother asked the little girl,
''and where are they this afternoon ?"
"Ah" she answered, sadly, "they did
not care to stay. But it was natural
enough, and l was foolish to grieve. Be-
sides, they come to see me"
"And then they play to you2" asked
the little girl, gently.
"They say the piano is out of tune, the
old dame said. 'I don't know. Perhaps
you can tell"
The little girl sat down to the piano and
struck a few chords.
eyes," she said cit is badly out of
tune Give me the tuning hammer. 1
am sorry" she added, smiling at Oswald
Everard, "but cannot neglect my duty.
Don't wait for me"
81 will wait for you, he said sullenly
and he went into the balcony and smoked
his pipe and tried to possess his soul in
patience.
When she had faithfully done her work
she played few simple melodies, such as
she knew the old woman would love and
understand, and she e-turned away when she
saw that the listeners eyes were moist.
"Play once again" the old woman,
whispered. "I am dreaming of beautiful
things
So the little tuner touched the keys
again with all the tenderness of an angel. |
"Teli your daughters, she said, as she
rose to say good-by, "that the piano is now
in good tune. Then they will play to you
the next time they come
81 shall always remember you, madem-
oiselle," the old woman said; and,
almost unconsciously, she, too, took the
childish face and kissed it.
Oswald Everard was waiting for his
in the hay field; and when she
apologized to him for this little professional
intermezzo, as she called it, he recovered
from his sulkiness and readjusted his
nerves, which the noise Of the tuning had
somewhat disturbed.
at was very good Of you to tune the
old danes piano. he said, looking at her
with renewed interest.
"Some one had to do it, Of course" she
answered, brightly, sand | am glad the
chance fell to me- What comfort it is
to think that the next time those daughters
some to see her they will play to her, and
make her very hannv-poor old dear y