The Roanoke times. [volume] (Roanoke, Va.) 1890-1895, 1895-09-13
THE YOUNG CRIPPLE.

Sho was tho youngest but one of fam
ily OF eight Physically her life was and
could DO nothing save one long cruciGx-
ion. Crippled and dcformed, there stretch
ell behind her II record of suffering, before
her tho prospect of greater torture still.
Nature had used her cruelty, for while her
puny and misshapcn franc inspired ridi-
culo, or at best shuddoring pity, she had
boon lowered with n capacity for affection
that burned itself into fierccr intensity
waiting tho love that never came.
Misunderstood, she had gradually re-
treated into little world of her own, with
nothing to love. NothingP There was her
violin, but that could hardly be considered
apart from Ida's own individuality. 1t
was her violin that expressed more co-
qucntly than herself could over have done
tho loneliness and the lovclcssncss of her
life. How many heart conceived tragedies
had throbbcd harmlcssly away upon its
vibrating strings! How many dclirious
day dreams had CROPPED their way from her
inner consciousness into oxhilarating life
through that medium which faithfully in
tcrpretcd all her varying moodsl
1T speaks for me-" sho once confessed
to tho old doctor who understood hcr bet
ter than any one else. "What other pco-
pie feel they can explain in words, but 1
sccm to have no power OF expression OK
ccpt through my violin"
DR.. Marshall was silent for /. moment.
Then he asked presently, "Did you over
hear my boy Austin play?"
Ida shook her head She had heard no
one Her morbid consciousness of inlirm-
tiles prevented her from attending any
public concert, and Austin Marshall, us
she knew, was professional yiolinist of
repute.
You ought to hear him. They tell me
his execution is remarkably good, and be-
sides gcniuscs like YOU two ought to
know each other. I'll tell you what III
do" no added kindly I'm bring him
round one evening to SEQ you, if you like,
when hc 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 diminuiivcm musician and won
dcrcd the while how the perfect soul hi,
father had described had managed to find
itself in that ni5shapcn little body. And.
later ON, when Ida had completely astound-
eli him with her rendering of Dvornk's
Romance" intense and heart.
brcaking-ho told himself that such a
thing was monstrous. Hero was an untu-
torcd genius, beside whom himself would
pale into comparative insigniicancc.
doomed by nature to perpetual solitude
while, Orphcuslillc, she sought by her
music to charm into life tho rocks and
trees.
You want some lessons to correct u few
technical errors" he said at last. "nnd
then you ought to be able to hold yonr
own at Queens hill or st. James with
the best of them. If could believe in
the transnigration of souls, would swear
the lost soul of some rcpontant sinner is
imprisoned in your violin'
He spoke with tho generous enthusiasm
of genius. Mere talent is sparing of praise
and bcgrudgcs success.
II can never play in public" she nm
swcrcd briefly, with IL painful flush that
testified to her sensitive recognition of
physical defects.
Ida ON public platform! Why, they'd
never SEQ her." interpolatcd jovial elder
brother, which the brutal candor admiring
friends had sometimes mistaken for frank
geniality. eve call her tho Diminished
Seventh" he added, with II conscious
smile that betrayed tho originator of the
questionable pleasantly.
Poor Diminished Seventh! She WINGED
as from blow, and Austin with the in
tcntion of covering her confusion, observed
with ready tact:
suppose because tho minor harmon
les arc most perfect and least understood. -
The rctorb was SO sudden and so uncx-
pcctcd that for once the wag of tho family
was left spccchlcss and not quite certain
whether some disguised slur on himself
had not been subtly introduced. while Ida.
feeling vaguely that those few words had
scaled Il compact of eternal friendship be-
tween Austin Marshall and herself. took
up her violin again and dashed into wild
and characteristic Hungarian air, whose
reckless lubilancc was Swallowed by an
underlying vein of sadness And when mt
last the music was all over she crcpt to her
room up stairs, marvcing that the hook
of life with its multitudnous POSSIBLE
ties, had never been opened to her at the
enchanting page of friendship.
That evening was but the forcrunner
of many similar. Scarce Il day passed
without Austin Marshall cOntriving to
spend somo time with the dcformcd must
clan, and as tho days lapsed into weeks,
and the weeks into months it was noted
that when Ida played alone her airs wero
moro romantic than before. And even her
unmusical family became infected with
their gayety. Her mother, who frequently
alleged she could enjoy good music rs
much as any one, if she could only get 1t,
was chccrcd to tho verge Of joyful antici-
patton, for who knew that Ida might not
attain tho supreme height of inspiring
dance music, such rs her mother loved,
and abandon forever those ghoulish walls
she said We're classical
But when the old doctor noticed the
change he shook his head in apprehension,
while tears of pity filled his eyes. His pro-
fession had trained him to read the long
ings OF the heart ne well rs the inflrmities
of the tenement it inhabited, and if all he
thought and dreaded were truo- Had
things been different! If Ida had not been
distinctly isolated by nature from the