The News-Herald. [volume] (Hillsboro, Highland Co., Ohio) 1886-1973, 1894-08-09
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 eld
erly lady, who was herself trying to get
roasted. You ought to lose no time In
changing your Clothes"
II have not anything to change" said
the young girl, laughing. "Oh, I shall
soon be dryl'
''Have you lost all your luggageP" ask
ed the lady sympathetically.
''No," said the young girl; ~ had none
TO lose" and she smiled little mischiev-
ously, as though she knew by instinct that
her companions sympathy would at once
degenerate into suspicion.
II don't mean to say / have not a KNAPP
sack, she added considerably. II have
walked long distance-in iact from Y. "
"And where did you leave your compan-
ions9" asked the lady, with touch of for
giveness in her voice.
Il am without companions, just as l
am without luggage" laughed the girl.
And then she opened the piano and
struck few notes. There was something
caressing 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 undefinable longing, like
the holding out of ones arms to ones
friends in the hopeless distance.
The lady bending over the fire looked
up at the little girl and forgot that she
had brought neither friends nor luggage
with her. She hesitated 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.
on t, ,f 4
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.
81 am going to tune the piano." tho lit
tie girl said, and she took tuning ham
mer out of her knapsack and began her
work in real earnest. She evidently knew
what she was about and pegged away at
the notes as though her whole life depend
ed on the result.
The lady by the fire was lost in amaze
ment. Who could she be? Without lug
gage and without friends and with tun-
ing hammerl
Meanwhile one of the gentlemen had
strolled into the salon; but, hearing the
sound of tuning and being in secret pos
session of nerves, he fled, 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 81
hence.
81 have just done,' said the little girl.
1.-The piano was so terribly out of tune l
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
Proprietaire had promised to send, and
having bestowed on her a condescendi"g g
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
a young woman of rather eccentric appear
ance
Really, it is quite abominable how
women thrust themselves into every pro-
fession," she remarked in her masculine
voice 1T is so unfeminine, so unseemly."
There was nothing of the feminine about
Miss Blake. Her horsecloth dress, her
waistcoat and high collar and her billy
cock hat were of 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
a tree.
Here she comes" said Miss Blake as
the little girl was seen sauntering into the
garden.
The men put up their eyeglasses and
saw little lady with a childish face and
soft brown hair, of strictly feminine ap-
pearance and bearing. The goat came to-
ward her and began nibbling 1t her frock.
She seemed to understand the manner of
goats and played with him to his hearts
content. One of the tennis players, Os-
wald Everard by name, strolled down to
the bank where she was having her froiic.
Good afternoon" he said, raising his
cap. Il hope the goat is not worrying you.
Poor little fellow! This is his last day of
d'hote"
''What shame!' she said. Fancy to
be killed, and then grumbled at!'
THAT is precisely what we do here" he
said, laughing. I'VE grumble at every
thing we eat. And own to being one Of
the grumpiest, though the lady in the
horsecloth dress yonder follows close upon
my heels"
''She was the lady who was annoyed at
me because l tuned the plano, the little
girl said. Still it had to be done. 1t was
plainly my duty. 1 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 it?''
why, sur ly not, she answered. anus
ed. 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, -
mo one, indeed" replied Oswald Ever
ard, laughing What on earth made you
take to it?'
1T took % me-, she said simply. 1T
wrapped me around with enthusiasm l
could think of nothing else. vowed that
I would rise to the top of my profession
worked day and night. But it means in
cessant toll for years if one wants to make
any headway"
Good gracious! thought it was mere
ly matter of few months" he said,
smiling at the little girl.