Fort Worth gazette. [volume] (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1891-1898, 1894-07-15

in the gutterl II Is morning. beyond doupt'
the golden golden light dances on the gray
payements like a carnival OF golden
drunken girls. The organ grinder ploas on
He turns out Of the dawning splendor OF tue
boulevard into a quiet side street. lined
with somber buildings. In front OF one
OF these he stops. He drops the organ
from his shoulder TO his knee-gently and
swiftly as the knife OF the guillo,ine falls,
An old organ grinder and an old man; old
airs OF a forgotten Already: old tunes OF
dead lovers, old piping, broken, auerulous
music. And last OF all he plays a waltz
to which they danced in the days when
Louis Philippe was King OF Franee-uoo
bless me, how many years ago was tha''
Et lorRuo en- sen allant nous lalsAe
La deliceuse riEtesso
Dun reyo envole.
The verses sing through the mAuye
streets--the organ grinder passes. lie Is
old, you know: foul and fetid old man
He has crawled out OF some dark den
where he slept in his dirty blouse HIS
box o. music is on his shoulder. Without
ioy. without regret. lmplacahle as prob
lem In mechanics. he turns Into the boule-
ward. The keen morning air sweeps the
asnhalt and rides down exultlngly the foul.
lingering odors of last nights gayeiy.
"rleusi 1t is Papa Mathurin." says girl.
looking out Of the window. She is big,
blonde girl. with red cheeks; rollieking,
taking girl II is laundry, you know.
and Elise is the prettleHt ironer In Paris,
with her high colored cheeks and white
shoulders. Under the swayng linen she
dances 10 the waltz-the old. old tune.
"Ah, Papa Mathurn," she cries. as the
music dies. ''you must play that at my
wedding"
"Yes.r he answers patiently. 81 will
play II at your Wedding
ant he knows bctter-the old organ
grinder. In Paris working girls as pretty
as Elise never marry. They
Now ne has reached o street Of gray
siieneea-a dumb. gray street, The young
sunlight cannot ovortop the dull wallis Il
cannot fatter the blank walls. There IL
onlv one notc OF color In the somber space
Inc virgin. ali blue and gold, with seven
swords thrust into her heart. She leans
from above d heavy ironed gate. Tho organ
s,,,salrs and pibbers az he turns the handle;
then the thin cracked notes ring out sharp
and high-lke the laughter OF Faustlne Tar
down In hell: souvenir OF old Joys ana
dead kisses
virgin. all blue and gold. watched.
woman went rlowly TO and fro. Tush. look
agaln-li is not woman. The scant black
frock, the white band acroHs the brow, the
black veil. the pallid farce
The lit Of the old waltz
Under the nuns dress is the white body
OF woman and u Pushes pink for the sake
OF the old. old t.na.
The old organ grinder iramns on-here.
and there no plays. II is only the old frnil
song he plays; an old song, redolent OF VIC
let's and kisses and quarrels; II song Of
dwarf roses and dead lavender
And this. too Is cur Paris; this city "
strange dreams and barren delights. Over
In Montmartre the little, thin girls dance
madly. for the sun Is down. And We dance
to the music Of their pattering feet. 10 the
sharp cries from their thin. little chests.
The lights are nigh in the Rat Mort; thu
noise Of the orchestra Ia loud and lnHlstent
But through It all and over IL all drones
tho o.d-word waltz Of the old organ grinder.
We spice our pleasures with old regrets.
ID l'orgue on sen ailant nous .aisse,
la delirieuse tristesse
Dun feyu enyQle
VAScE THokpsoS.