The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1895-09-14
THE YOUNG CRIPPLE.

She was the youngest but one Ut fam
lily of eight. Physically her life was and
could be nothing save one long crucifix-
ion. Crippled and deformed, there stretch
ed behind her a record Of suffering, before
her the prospect of greater torture still.
Nature had used her cruelty, for while her
puny and misshapen frame inspired ridi-
Guile, or at best shuddering pity, she had
been lowered with .eaoaoity for affection
that burned itself Tito fercer intensity
waiting the love that never came.
Misunderstood, she had gradually re-
treated into little world of her own, with
nothing to love. NothingP 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 lovelessness of her
life. How many heart conceived tragedies
had throbbed harmlessly away upon it's
vibrating stringsl How many delirious
day dreams had CROPPED their way from her
inner consciousness into exhilarating life
through that medium which faithfully in
terpreted all her varying moodsl
sit speaks for me, she once confessed
to the old doctor who understood her bet
ter than any one else. "What other peo-
| pie feel they can explain in words, but I
seem to have no power of expression ex-
cept through my violin"
| Dr. Marshall was silent for moment
| Then he asked presently, "Did you ever
hear my boy Austin plays"
Ida shook her head. She had heard no
| one. Her morbid consciousness Of infrm-
| tiles prevented her from Attending any
public concert, and Austin Marshall, as
she knew, was q professional violinist of
| repute.
"You ought to hear him. They tell me
his execution is remarkably good and be-
sides geniuses like you two ought to
know each other I'll tell you what I'll
do" he added kindly. "Ill bring him
round one evening to see you, if you like,
when he isn't busy"
Not many days elapsed ere the doctor
kept his promise, and Austin Marshall,
tall and strong, held the small, wasted
hand of the iiminutive musician and won
dered the while how the perfect soul his
father had described had managed to find
itself in that misshapen little body. And,
| later on, when Ida had completely astound
ed him with her rendering of Dvorak's
Romance wild, intense and heart
breaking-he told himself that such q
thing was monstrous. Here was an untu-
torei genius, beside whom himself would
pale into comparative insignidcance,
doomed by nature to perpetual solitude
WHILE Orpheuslike she sought by her
music to charm into life the rocks and
| trees.
ant 1accpy,c To cOrront a fnyU
technical errors,'' he said at last, "and
then you ought to be able to hold your
own at Queens hall or ST. James with
the best of them. II I could believe in
the transmigration of souls, would swear
the lost soul of some repentant sinner is
| imprisoned in your violin.''
| He spoke with the generous enthusiasm
| of genius. Mere talent is sparing of praise
and begrudges success.
II can never play in public she an
swered briefly, with painful flush that
! testified to her sensitive recognition of
| physical defects.
"Ida on public platformi Why, they'd
| never see her!'' interpolated jovial elder
brother, which the brutal candor admiring
friends had sometimes mistaken for frank
geniaiity "We call her the Diminished
| Seventh" he added, with a conscious
smile that betrayed the originator of the
questionable pleasantly.
Poor Diminished Seventh! She WINGED
as from blow, and Austin, with the in
tention of covering her confusion, observed
| with ready tact:
81 suppose because the minor harmon
| les are most perfect and least understood. "
The retort was so sudden and SO unex-
o.. Dff ho for1 II,
| was left speeches. and not quite certain
whether some disguised slur on himself
had not been subtIy introduced, while Ida,
feeling vaguely that those few words had
sealed compact Of eternal friendship be-
tween Austin Marshall and herself, took
up her violin again and dashed into a wild
| and characteristic Hungarian air, whose
reckless jubilance was Swallowed by an
underlying vein Of sadness. And when at
last the music was all over she crept to her
room up stairs, marveling that the book
of life, with it's multitudinous possibili-
| ties had never been opened to her at the
enchanting page Of friendship.
That evening was but the forerunner
of many sirnffar. Scarce day passed
without Austin Marshall contriving to
| spend some time with tho deformed must
CliSQ, aIu DIS Oklo ua5o inkS0u AheS "oSh>o,
| and the weeks into months, it was noted
that when Ida played alone her airs were
| more romantic than before. And even her
unmusical family becasAe infected with
their gayety. Her mother, who frequently
alleged she could enjoy good music as
much as any one, IL she could only get It,
was cheered to the verge Of joyful anticl-
patton, for who knew that Ida might not
attain the supreme height of inspiring
dance music, such as her mother loved,
and abandon forever those ghoul1sh walls
she said were classical.
But when the old doctor noticed the
change he shook his head in apprehension,
while tears Of pity filed his eyes. His pro-
fession had trained him to read the long
ings of the heart as we'll as the infirmities
of the tenement it inhabited, and If all he
thought and dreaded were true Had
things been different! If Ida had not been