Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1895-12-04
THE DIMINISHED SEVENTH.

and could be nothing "a n long cru
cifiXion. Crippled and deformed, there
stretched behind her a record of suffer-
ing; before her the prospect of greater
torture still. Nature had used her cruel
ly, for while her puny and m~isshapen
frame inspired ridicule, or at best shud-
dering pity, she had been lowered with
q capacity for affection that burnt itself
into fercer intensity waiting the love
that never came.
Misunderstood, she had gradually re-
treated into a little world of her own,
with nothing to love. Nothing? There
was her violin. but that could hardly be
considered apart from Ida's own individ-
uality. 1t was her violin that expressed
more eloquently than herself could ever
have done the loneliness and the love-
lessness of her life. How many heart
conceived tragedies had throbbed harm
lessly away upon it's vibrating strings!
How many delirious day-dreams had
CROPPED their way from her inner con-
that medium which faithfully inter-
preted all her varying moods!
1T speaks for me" she once confessed
to the old doctor, who understood her
better than anyone else. What other
people feel they can explain in words;
but l seem to ave no power of express
sion except through my violin"
DR.. Marshall was silent for a moment;
then he asked presently: did you ever
hear my boy Austin play|
Ida shook her head. She had heard
no one. Her morbid consciousness of in
firmities prevented her from attending
any public concert, and Austin Marshall,
as she knew, was a professional violin
list of repute.
"You ought to hear him. They tell
me his execution is remarkably good
and, besides, geniuseS like you two ought
tn know nonh nfhnT. I'll foil Won what
III do" he added kindly; I'll bring him
round one evening to see you, if you like,
when he isn't busy"
Not many days elapsed ere the doctor
kept his promise, and Austin Marshall,
tall and strong, held the small, wasted
hand of the diminutive musician, and
wondered the while how the perfect soul
his father had described had managed to
find itself in that misshapen little body.
And later on, when Ida had completely
Dvorak'S "Romance'-Wild, intense and
heart-breaking-he told himself that such
Il thing was mOnstrous. Here was an
untutored genius, beside whom himself
would pale into comparative insignifi-
canoe, doomed by nature to perpetual
solitude while, Orpheus-like, she sought
by her music to charm into life the rocks
and trees.
You want some lessons to correct Il
few technical errors" he said at last,
land then you ought to be able to hold
o u own at Queens hall or St. James
with the best of them. If | could be-
lieve in the transmigration of souls l
would swear the lost soul of some re-
pentant sinner is imprisoned in your
VIOLIN
He spoke with the generous enthusi-
asm Of genius; mere talent is sparing of
praise and b~egrudges success.
Il can never play in public" she an
| SVynrn1 briefly with n paiDful finish tbat
testified to her sensitive recognition Of
physical defects.
Ida on a public platform! Why,
they'd never see her!' interpolated a
joyial elder brother, with the brutal can
dor admiring friends had sometimes mis-
taken for frank geniality. 1--WE call her
the Diminished Seventh" he added, with
a conscious smile that betrayed the orig
inator of the questionable pleasantly.
Poor Diminished Seventh! She WINGED
as from a blow, and Austin, with the
intention of covering her confusion, alb
served with ready tact:
Il suppose because the minor harmO-
nies are most perfect and least under
stood"
The retort was so sudden and so I'M
expected that for once the wag of the
family was left speechless, and not quite
certain whether some disguised slur
on himself had not been snbtly intro
l w ILL AOC5 GULL QSuC I1CC
those few words had sealed a compact
of eternal friendship between Austin
Marshall and herself, took up her violin
again and dashed into a wild and char
acteristic Hungarian air, whose reckless
Guidance was Swallowed by an underly-
ing vein of sadness. And when at last
the music was all over, she crept to her
room upstairs, marvelling that the Book
of Life, with it's multitudinous posi-
b%lllties, had never been opened to her
at the enchanting page of Friendship.
That evening was but the forerunner
of many similar. Scare a day passed
without Austin Marshall contriying to
stefan. And as the days lapsed into
weeks, and the weeks into months, it
was noted that when Ida played alone
her airs were more romantic than before.
And even her unmusical family became
infected with their gayety; her mother
(WhO frequently alleged she could enjoy
good music as much as any One-if she
could only get it, was cheered to the
verge of joyful anticipation. For who
knew that Ida might not attain the su-
preme height of inspiring dance music,
such as her mother loved, and abandon
forever those ghoulish walls she said
were classical.
But when the old doctor noticed the
change he shook his head in apprehen-
sion, while tears of pity filled his eyes.
His profession had trained him to read
the longings of the heart as we'll as the
infirmities of the tenement it inhabited,
and if all he thought and dreaded were
true! Had things been different! If
Ida had not been distinctly ISOLATED by
nature from the sweetest gifts life can
hold!
And one evening came the crisis the
good doctor feared.
II shall miss all this ~dreadfully when
I'm away" Austin said, as he turned
| over a pile of music for a particular
duet. "Tm going North in a day or two
you know-didn't [ tell you?" he added,
answering the %unspoken question.
Next autumn, when l am back
again" he said, presently, feeling vague
~ that something was wrong, 1--WE shall
have some more pleasant evenings to-
| gether, | hope"
Ida spake not. For a moment she was
conscious of naught save a terrible sense
of absolute despair. and a curious buzz
zing in her head like the repeated twang
of the G string. Going away-and until
the autumn! Why, by hat time she
might be dead and buried. She looked
round vacantly, as one gropes blindly in
the dark for some familiar object. She