The herald., 1895-10-13

/ like the soft yelling of the distant noun
tains. grow eager and even wishful.
"You seem to want me to say that I
hear music, dear, but 1 really cannot at
this m oment. Something enchants you.
I know. Thsre is an expression which
comes upon your face only when you are
touched by perfect harmony at a concert,
church or opera. But here this morning
1 can scarcely account for it. My ears
must be very dull. For l don't hear a
sound excepting that of some hammers in
buildings going up and the din of the
electric cars rolling along the street be-
low u.s."
He sits with his back to the broad,
open window. l sit facing 1t. Opposite
him, however, is an immense mirror
which reflects from a side window lively
thoroughfare of Los Angeles as it
spreads afar in bright pers pective. There
is bird-eye view OF spires and domes
and steeples, not un picturesue oil der
ricks rising amongst some pretty homes
and slowly circling smoke plumes over
all.
In my position see nothing that hints
OF trade or traffic or com M merce. l look
down on eucalyptus, pepper and palm
trees, and IN the nearer view great bushes
of roses and vivid scarlet geranium
hedges. I gaze upon the foothills and
he diversified Sierra Madre submits
climbing to meet the blue sky, fecked
with the whitesr and faintest of biIlowy
clouds. And against this background 1
see, just across the way, an old, old
house OF Spanish architecture. Into one
of whose spacious chambers my gaze has
penetrated. almost unconsciously, for the
last ten minutes.
Listen, listen," say again, don't
talk, just listen"
But ne still fails to distinguish the
music which strangely envelops me.
A breeze from the mountains sweeps
through the chamber opposite. 1t gently
sways the lace curtains so that l catch
dim outlines through them, and between
their widths as they are blown apart l
see the objects in the room. One is an
old-fashioned piano, and the other is
woman evidently of middle age sitting in
front of it. l cannot tell whether sne is
playing upon the instrument or not.
Her attitude Is peculiarly eloquent, and
her head. a very shapely one, is some-
times lifted as if on the wall there were
a picture or treasured portrait, perhaps,
which she is studying. She might be
even singing or playing, or indulging in
silent memories, if one were to Judge by
her position. Her hands I cannot see.
Sometimes her head drops quite low and
think she is glancing at the keyboard.
l listen more intently. My fancies stray
toward the mountains. while the sea
wind, laden with magical saltiness and
the faint perfume of magnolia blossoms,
steals across them, and over Bonnie
BIas and the verdure-clad hills this side
until 1t finally attempts to trick my i'm
agination by almost shutting out the
scenes between the filmy lace curtains.
So let my glance wander again toward
the foothills OF the Sierra Madre range
and the forest-shaded valleys. and the
fower-decked gardens, all of which are
such a perpstual feast of color to my
eyes, az yet unaccustomed to the abound
ing beauty of Southern California. As
watch the gradual disappearance of the
morning mists between Los Angeles and
the mountains and the sea, and feel the
warmth and tenderness Of The early sun
shine minglinR with the cool, bracing
breath OF the Pacific, / realize that
am IN a super-sensitivs mood. I feel
blest and contsnted. lean back pass i've
ly or rise with sense OF mental ana
physical energy under the glad conscious.
moss that another day Is to be lived In
this bslmy cline Of Southern California.
''FiA my hour, - geds, that % shall