Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1895-03-12

purse of its silver into the musicians
cap.) AS she does SO, she withdraws a
nickel coin and says apologetically:
You see I'm a suburban, and / must
keep car fare to get to the station.
I'm late to my train now. It's too bad
there is no more. On, I'm sorry for
your
The lady hurries away. Maria Holt
looks after her wistfully. as she deity
turns the silver from the cap into
Henrys pocket.
Her eyes fill. Henry plays and sings:
Let US die to make men freel
For God is marching on
Lady, unexpectedly returning) -
Never mind my train. I've given it
up. l can't bear thisl 1 must know
something about you-why, what's the
matter? Why, you poor woman! What
ails you?
Maria Holt bursting into tears
oh, its the words you said. It's the
words you said! Nobody else-for so
long-and we have had such hard
pul.-Oh, don't mind me. Oh, am
ashamed-Henry, Henry, I'm ashamed
Of myself. j don't know whenever he's
heard me cry before-have you, Henry?
But it's the words you said.
Lady much moved)-The words
said? Oh-that! Such a little com
mon human-oh, you poor woman.
Henry Holt puts down his flute. His
pinched face works pathetically. He
rolls his eyes helplessly towards Maria.
Then. with the most exquisite motion
by which knight or gentleman could
express reverence or tenderness for
women, the street musician gropes for
the cheek of his wife, and strokes it
with the palm of his blue hand.
A crowd has begun to thicken around
Henry. Maria and the lady; but neither
of the three appears aware of it.
The man caresses his wife as ingenu-
ously as if she and he were alone in
the world. He shows no consciousness
OF the presence of observers.
Lady-Tell me all about it! Tell me
how it happens. Why are you like
this? You are Americans
Henry interrupting)-New England,
born and bred.
Lady-You don't look as if you ought
to be doing this. You look above beg
ging on the street.
Henry-Ma'am?
Maria--Oh, madami Don't you see?
Henry, she don't understand. She
didn't mean it. She amt that kind Of
lady. Madam
Henry-Begging?
His face flushes from white to pur-
pie His flute drops to the pavement
His wife picks it up and wipes it with
her shawl. She speaks in grooming
tone.
Maria-There, there, dear! She don't
know. She don't understand. Madaml
my husband is musician. He is not a
beggar. He works hard for a living.
Try it and see--all weathers.
Maria Holt raises herself with dig
nitv and with a trembling forefnger
points at her husbands eyes.
l. .dv-Blind2
Maria mods silently.
Lady (overcome)-Oh, beg your par
don! Oh, you poor people! l beg your
pardon with all my heart.
The Street Musician (bowing with n
fine grace)-Madam, you have it from
mine.
Lady-Tell me how it came about
this great misfortune. Do you mind
telling me? l viii try not to hurt your
feelings SO stupidity again.
Henry Holt drawing himself erect)-
Yes, ma'aln, l will tell you. 1t hap
pened thirty years ago, but it don't
need thirty words to tell it. Seems to
me, ma'am (siniling) if you'll excuse
me, you're the one that don't see of US
two!
The street musician lifts his purple
fingers to his sightless eyes and then,
with superb gesture, points in silence
to faded decoration pinned upon his
shrunizen breast 1t is the badge of
the Grand Army of the Republic.
The crowd about the group has slow
ly increased. Silver begins to fall into
the street-player's cap. There is a gap
among the women at the show window
Maria Holt looks through this gap.
Her wan eyes raise themselves to the
ernine opera cloak with instructive
feminine attentions; 80 glances at the
pink and silver room. The blind man S
pale face turns blankly in the same di-
rection. To him alone of all the peo-
pie before the window its luxurious
display appeals without arousing in
terest. The dummy in ermine and the
dummy in chiffon regard him scorn-
fully.
The First Woman in the Crowd-Its
hand organ, l guess. Isn't there a
monkeyat Idote on monkeys.
cond1Woman-It isn't a monkey.
It's only little man with flute
Lets move on to the millinery window.
First Woman Wait I've got ten
cents.
second Woman-Pve spent every
cent I've got in the world on that os-
trsch plume and my jet trimmin's.
I've got to borrow of you to get home.
l feel kind of ashamed, too-seems so
mean. Let's move along, and they'll
think we didn't see him.
Lady-Did yop lose your eyesight in
the army?
Henry Holt (cheerily playing Yankee
Doodle. Finishes the strain conscien-
tiously before he speaks)-Excuse me,