Eagle River Democrat. [volume] (Eagle River, Vilas County, Wis.) 1893-1896, 1895-09-23
While Night, brown monk stan
Piper Tim.

Lets glow-worm sparkles fall.
&C. ]. O'Malley in THE Building of the
Moon"
Piper Tim.
81 can pipe, too," he said.
Do you know how a child's eyes look
when he has just learned how beautiful
this vast world is, when he feels his
wings like bird, ere the heritage of the
sons of toll has dimmed them? So
Tins eyes looked that winter night. He
opened the door of the smithy where the
members of the village orchestra sat at
practice round the blazing forge. Every
man paused, instrument in hand, at the
sound of the fearless, shrill, young voice.
Then, smiling, Tim shut out the drift,
ing snowfakes and stepped in among the
men. The small feet were shoeless, and
dark as the earthen floor on which he
stood. The clothes he wore hung round
his slim form in grotesque tatters. But
above the tatters rose a face such as God
sends into a dark world now and then.
Noble were the features; the sweep Of
the blue eyes was clear and grand; the
curve of his lips was proud yet sweet.
From the beautiful brow waved hair
tawny and sun-kissed, on which the glist-
ening snow shone like stars. The men
had scarcely time to look at the. child
when, raising his pipe to his lips, he be.
gan to play The wonderful eye shone;
the slim, brown fingers obeyed the I'M.
pulse of the grand soul imprisoned In
tiny Tim. Strong men laid aside their
instruments and clasped horny hands to
listen; here and there face Swallowed;
now and then tear was furtively wiped
away. Tim smiled as he took the pipe
from his lips and his eyes turned WIS.,
fully to the blazing fire. They made
way for him; they entertained him as II
he had been of royal estate. A small
three-legged stool was his throne and he
sat there, pipe clasped closely, as nappy
as far as he knew.
"Over the hills" he said, ''far, far over
the hills They called him Piper Tim
in the caravan, never another name. He
had always piped.
Then he laughed, and stretched. his
thin, brown hands with JOY to the blaze.
He could tell nothing more; he belonged
to the thinker panG,'' and the sound OF
music had drawn him SO that he fingered
to listen while the caravan went on It's
way cover the hills"
The smiths wife admired the child's
lovely face; his tatters brought tears to
her eyes; womanlike she gave him to
more amazed while he played on his pipe
ere, with laughing farewell, ne went
off into the darkness. That night the
smith sat long dreaming by the red logs
in his forge. He sighed as he turned in
at the cottage door, where his wife
awaited him by the fire.
How would it ha' been," he. said, gin
we'd kept that little chap, the piper!
Our BARN would just ha' been ABBOTT his
age gin the Lord had spared him."
There was a note. of anxious query in
his tones But the starved mothers
heart in the woman cried out:
"Eh, ,but I've been sittin' here seem
the bonny face O. the BARN in the ire
light. l thocht O. him out there in the
darkness an the shaw wi the tinkers
folk. God keep and guide him.. | wish
we'd spoken sooner. Keep him! Would
l no., wi yon bonny face, yon blythe
e'enr'
when he comes back again." the
smith said, as he drew his chair to the
hearth, and his wife, with glad smile,
echoed his words.
The schoolmaster placed his old violin
tenderly in it's corner that night. He
smiled a little bitterly as he thought of
his gray hairs and his many years of
plodding, then of Piper Tim:
He plays as bird SINGS" he thought,
sadly, This heart is full of music Then
his books.
But the boys face smiled from every
page; the free, fearless voice was in his
ears; the blue, pure eyes shOne in the
cracking flames. The schoolmaster flung
aside his book, and was back in the old
days, when the hills and the stars and
the sunshine had been his book, a
a world Of wonders. He looked at the
empty chair of his dead wife and he
thought of sons and daughters far away.
IF l had kept the lad he unused
aloud, II could have made man of him
have saved him from the tinker's life;
he would have filled my empty home.
Long he dreamt; then a smile of reso-
luton curved his lips.
"When he comes again. he said.
And Piper Tim?
He went on his way that night, turn
ing again and again to look at the long,
bright CLEANS that fell on the snow
from the great forge fire. He knew his
people were camping in the. mountains,
and to the mountains and the darkness
he turned his face There was singing
in his heart-there was always singing
theresa he went on his way merrily.
Up, up. through the binding snow, Meth
err cold nor weary, for the singing in
that heart of his, he watched always
for the CLEAN of the red campfire But
he beheld never a spark.
The stars shone out serenely. lin
raised his face to them; they smiled
into their twin stars-his eyes. Yet still
was there no campfire.
Tim, growing footsore, sat down in the
sheltered Granny of a rock: He raised
his pipe to his lips. He played tune
that began bravely and ended softly,
and more softly still; Tim was asleep.
The snowhakes fell like bristling stars;
the dawn smiled over the hills, but Tim
piped never again.
Little rocked the tinker band that one
child less crouched to the fire, one brown
hand less stretched to the steaming pot.
When the musicians met in the smithy
on winters nights, and the wind shakes
weird melodies from trees and mount
aims, the men look at each other, and
sometimes light breaks over rugged
faces. Sounds like tune from Piper
Tim,'' say they.
Occasionally strange presence seems.
to fill the place. The smith and the
schoolmaster raise eager faces, words
tremble on their lips-but-- the fam
cies that are ever aslumber in dream
ers' hearts have been stirred by the
winds song and the shadow of the dane
ing f1ames.-Black and White.