The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1895-11-16
81 am glad to see your sons fader

that | think it is time we should
speak about some remuneration.
am sure
Excuse me-excuse me-" inter-
rupted the Frenchman. Anything
but dat l will talk about anything
else. De vedder, politics, anything
but remun-I cannot say de word. l
want not de payment. Eet ees-vat
you call eet?-a labor of lovel"
To all Mr.. Baldwin's entreaties he
turned deaf ear. Finally the bust
ness man was obliged to withdraw
before the self-denying energy of the
musician.
SIS the boy doing well7" asked Mr..
Baldwin, just before he went out.
"Ah, l must beg to be excused as
to dat! I myself will tell him vat is
good to know. AS for you, sir, l will
tell you dat he is very good boy;
yes, very good boy"
Four years went by, and Arthur
was twenty-one years old. He had
kept up his singing lessons steadily,
and though he felt that he had inn
proved, he had never received COM
pliment from his teacher. Mr.. Monet
never allowed him to sing at church
or in public. "You will get more of
de praise dan you deserve, and dat
will spoil you," he said. Arthur had
left school and had gone into his
fathers business; but singing took
more and more of his time and atten-
ton. Mr.. Baldwin saw that the boy
was really devoted to his music, and
let him have his way. Finally, one
hot day in August, old Mr.. Monet
made state call on Mr.. Baldwin.
Arthur never heard exactly what was
said; but the result of the converse
ton was that his father asked him if
he would like to study singing in
Paris, and Arthur said without mo-
ment's hesitation that he would.
1t was a sad occasion when the
young man went to take his last les
son before going abroad. The tears
were in the old Frenchman's eyes
when he opened the door to let his
pupil in for the last time, and he sat
down and played few chords on the
piano to cover his emotion.
"Eet ees de last lesson, my boy"
"Yes, SIR
81 have never told you much about
myself, my boy. l vos singer vonce,
ven vos your age, and sang very
vell-yes, very veil, I know; but be-
fore l came before de public, before
l vas veil known, vas taken sick,
very sick; I vas very nearly dead
man. But no, recovered; | fought
| vas all veil again; but ven | came
to sing The old man stopped a
moment to get control of himself,
and when he went on his voice was
firm again: "Ven began to sing, l
could not sing. Dat vas in de France;
and den l came to Amerique, and l
got place to play here in Annisville.
I cannot play-but l could sing
vonce. But | have looked for some
vone dat might perhaps some time
sing as I could have sung, and And
| can teach as few men can teach now
dat my teacher has died. So ven you
sing my boy, you sing for me and for
you; and eef you succeed eet will be
partly your poor old teachers sue
cess" Again he stopped to control
himself. "Eef you ever become
good singer, you will remember dat l
taught you; you will remember dat,
will you not?"
81 shall remember" said Arthur.
"And now We will take de lesson"
The lesson for that day was part
of Sullivan's oratorio, "The Prouigal
Son." The accompaniment rose and
fell long time in pathetic cadence
till suddenly Arthur's beautiful voice
joined it with a wonderful pathos
and passion. 1t was singing such as
one seldom hears. When Old Monet
turned round to criticise, the tears
were still in his eyes; but true to his
principle he gave no compliment.
"Not kvite So spasmodic on de
fader in dat place we're you say, Fad
er, fader, have sinnedp But We will
not go over it again. Good-by, my
boy! God bless you"
"Good by, Mr.. Monet. l can never
tell you how much owe you"
Arthur went out, closing the door
behind him, while his teacher sat at
the piano with his head in his hands.
In all his lonely life he had never
felt so lonely before.
Arthur did not return for five years.
His teacher in Paris, who was at that
IL