The Forrest City times., 1895-08-30
A DIMINISHED SEVENTH.
BIZ EUGENE f. WOOD.

She was the youngest but one of a
family of eight. Physically, her lie
was and could be nothing save one
long crucifxion. Crippled and de-
formed. there stretched behind her a
record of suffering: before her the
prospect of greater torture still. Ma
ture had used her cruelty, for while
her puny and misshapen frame in
spired ridicule, or, at best, shuddering
pity, she had been lowered with
capacity for affection that burnt itself
into iercer intensity waiting the love
that never came. Misunderstood she
had gradually retreated into a little
world OF her own, with nothing to love
Nothing? There was her violin, but
that could hardly be considered apart
from Ida's own individuality. 1t was
her violin that expressed more elo-
quently than herself could ever have
done the loneliness and the loveless-
ness of her life. How many heart
conceived tragedies had throbbed
harmle ssly away upon its vibrating
strings. How many delirious day
dreams had CROPPED their way from her
inner consciousne SIS into exhilarating
life through that medium which faith
fully interpreted all her varying
moods.
1T speaks for me- she once con-
fessed to the old doctor, who under
stood her better than anyone else.
What other people feel they can ex-
plain in words; but | seem to have no
power of expression except through my
violin
DIR. Marshall was silent for a mo-
ment; then he asked presently: Ibid
you ever hear my boy Austin play?"
Ida shook her head. She had he ard
no one. Her morbid consciousness of
infirinities prevented her from attend
ing any public concert, ard Austin
Marshall, as she well knew, was a pro-
fessional violinist of repute.
"You ought to hear him. They tell
me his execution is remarkably good
and, besides, ge muses. like you two
ought to know each other. I'll tell
you what III do he added kindly;
I'm bring HIM round one evening to
see you, if you like, when he isn't
busy"
Not many days elapsed ere the doc
tor kept his promise. and Austin Mar
shell. tall and strong, held the small,
wasted hand of the diminutive musi-
clan, and wondered the while how the
perfect soul his father had described
had managed to find itself in that mis-
shapen little body. And later on,
when Ida had completely astounded
him with her rendering of Dvornks S
Romance wild, intense and heart
breaking-he told himself that such
thing was mohstrous Here was an
untutored genius, beside whom him
self would pale into comparative insig-
nifcance, doomed by nature to perpet-
ual solitude while, Orpheus-like, she
ought by her music to charm into life
the rocks and trees.
"You want some lessons to correct
few technical errors" he said at last,
land then you ought to be able to hold
your own at Queen hall or ST. James
with the best of them. If / could be-
leve in the transmigration of souls. /
would swear the lost soul of some re-
pentant sinner is imprisoned in your
VIOLIN
He spoke with the generous enthusi-
asm of genius, mere talent is sparing
OF praise and begrudges success.
Il can never play in public.a she an
swered, briefly, with a painful flush
that testified to her sensitive recogni-
tion of physical defects.
Ida on spublic platform. Why they'd