The Jasper weekly courier. [volume] (Jasper, Ind.) 1858-1922, 1895-11-08

Naturally I was impressed by the
newly made. grave and the strange in
scr;,,tion. "Unwcpt save by one
friend was pathetic indeed. Cross
;ng the fence. mash he'd down the grass
md sage clinging about the base OF me
stone. in the hope of finding further m
formation. But the search was IN Saih
those were the only words. and Twas +
left 10 speculation Had parent been
nassinr that way. victim of poverty
ar m exile from scenes OF former pros
ncr;tv. and had the child fallen sick and
died? Had she been abducted by one
who loved her and yet had no right 10
he,. po,session. and while being hurried
through that region her footsteps. like
Dickens Little Ncll's. lad died out
forever?
4 tramp is not necessarily heartess
he may carry hidden in his BOSOM
pictures and memories that are tender
nnd forceful enough 10 keep his steps
from wandering into he'll. Ii IS not 10
he ,vonde red at that as / tarricd there
beside the grave my thoughts went
wandering to other days when had y
home and little ones. when youth anu
hope were buoyant, and ]. too, could say
Of the world:
.Robcd IN universal harvest. up to either pole
she SMILES.
Universal ocean softly washing sli nef wal 80
isles. y"
Hut tha. was long ago. and enough o.
IL. Almost forgetting the world III IN
bitterness which succeeded my MS
recollcctions. did not notice the lcngtl
of time | was tarrying there know
that was soon surrounded by dark
ness. and. strangely enough. while not
ing everything around me, felt ina
was vet under some sort OF sPei
While could look on the stars perrin
like so many eyes from heaven an
think and feel the chills pass down III
back rs an owl passed over me. snal
ming its bcak as il winged onward
was arrested and kept from. moving
the sweetest strains Of music had e''
heard. coming from no particular 9
rcction. il appeared. but falling aroui
and on me like slumber; as sweet we
they as notes from some divine instr
mcnt. soft as l have imagined q
voices Of saints who lean over the wal
calling souls to glory.
| am not superstitious. think-w
II not Bulwcr who indirectly said tn
fortunate men are the superstiiious
but the music seemed supernatural, n
as the sounds became more distinct
cause nearing or because more foi
was thrown in the rendition. was g
tain that they proceeded from vio
undoubtedly under the dcft touch
a masterhand. The air became gu
distinsuishablc after awhile-it v
Pagnnini's Carnival of Venice.
peering into the darkness. thoul
could see the shadowy and indisti
outline of a man. Was not dreamii
The white face with its strang
luminous eyes bcckoncd me on. WI
the fingers performed their duty on
violin: and involuntarily followed
f.rur,, ~ Il slowly reccdcd like shat
before the dawn, straining every ne
To lose none of the mir. My soul.
went out with the music-traycicd
and on until in imagination bec'
q denizcn OF the old world follow
the cnrnpturcd Nicolo Pagarinithro
its cities md becoming his worsh
as he entertained houses in Vie
Paris. Parma and Milan. drln'sin
his melodies as IL ! in reality lived y
than half a century ago.
Presently the music ceased. and
phantom figure. STOPPING, slowl,
tended forward . pale hand, as sms
awoman's, and placed in mine lett