The Madison daily leader. [volume] (Madison, S.D.) 1890-current, 1896-01-06

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itself. was locked up ana hidden in the
soul OF the old man. But there it lay
and grew to Il sickly hate, to a helpless
envy against all these others. He envied
the unknown youth who had nailed the
flag Of France to the old tower; he en-
We'd the recruit who had shouted, 'Viye
la France!" in the barrack yard, and
he envied the girl who had had courage
to bear the colors of France right through
the lines of the enemy.
Everywhere about him they found
every day some new-way of showing
their strong memory and a f~aithfulness
that knew nc death. He alone could do
nothing, could find nothing. He was
useless-always useless. Yes, yeS-his
soul could weep, but his organ-it san
beneath his fingers.
But one day Old Hunchback stepped
into the tobacco store, and they scarce
" knew him. His face beamed. Muser
filled his snutfbox, and as usual began
his sarcastic remarks.
"Well, now you see, my good Fa-
ther Michael, of what use really is such
an organist, en-"
But Moser did not finish This time
Father Michael did not bend his head.
This time it was Old Hunchback who
smiled with n peculiar and proud ex-
preston. He looked frankly and earn.
estly at those present, and there lay a
calm dignity over this hunchbacked old
man with the curious monkey face, and
his voice was resonant and firm.
Yes, he said, "evcn CrganistS may
be useful. Just wait l will prove it,
They crowded around him. They in
sisted and coaxed him to tell them what
it was, but he was silent. Smiling as
they never before had seen him, he step
ped out of the store, and his step was
elastic as that Of youth. He locked al
most straight, thls hunchbacked OLD
man, as he passed down the street.
Moser and the crowd in the store soon
came to the II conclusion that tho Or
ganlst had gone mad, stark mad.
In the evening the whole village
knew that old Father Michael had a
screw loose. This was in holy week, on
Wednesday. Maundy Thursday the bells
are rung for the Christians of the whole
world, even for the Alsatians, and ev-
erybody goes to church. But in Alsace-
Lorraine they thought not only of the
holy resurrection, but also of another
the morning of the resurrection of lib
erty, which no bells as yet had pro-
claimed.
Good Friday the church was throng-
cd with people. High up on the altar
stood the black draped cross. Heavy
bands OF Grape were >twisted about the
unlighted candles. From the chancel
the priest read heavily and slowly the
holy words of the suffering of our Say
Jour; about him who bent his head in
death to give to the world peace, forgive
ness and liberty.
And the people reverentially knelt on
the f1agstones and offered up their hearts
in silent, Borrowing prayer. Slowly the
priest goes toward the altar, and now
the grand "Stabat Mater DolorOsa" was
to be sung. 1t was a moment of deepest
silence i'll the church; the congregation
had opened their prayerbooks. To them
it seemed as if their country was the
sorrowing mother, who stood under the
cross, with the sword piercing her
heart, signing after deliverance aud lib.
erty.
The silence became long, oppressive
ly long. The organ would not begin.
Was it then really true that Father Mi
chael had gone mad?
The sexton i'll the chancel pulled the
ctrinu that 1nI Nm RI fla Drrori% n-o,
the entire church could be heard the
faint tinkling Of a little bell. Then the
organ woke. The whole church resound-
ed with fierce trumpet calls. The sing
ers arose in wild amazement. Why, this
was not the prelude to "Stabat - And
the whole congregation was as if struck
by lightning.
No! 1t was not "Stabat Mater that
sounded from the organ 1t was a hymn
full of thunder and Of fire, the organ
pipes rang out like brazen trumpets,
the deep bass tones roared like cannons,
and the defiant rattle Of the snare
drums beat echoed through the sanctu-
AIRY. Changing of arms, rattle of mus
Retry, shrieks> intermingled with trum-
pet blasts and clashing Of swords there
were in this fierce outburst Of sounds.
The organ grOaned and treinbled be-
meath its burden.
But the congregation below had ris-
en-. They were like a crowd in tumul-
tuous uproar. Voices took up the strains
Of the organ; first one, then a mighty
union of voices burst forth in fierce I'M
restraint. Mothers stood upon the seats,
stretching their children toward the
organ, weeping, but singing with wild
intensity. Choir boys and priests made
frantic motions to check the organist,
but all the while they were singing the
"Marseillaise" unconsciously.
And Father Michael played on moth.
ing could stop him. He played like on
possessed, and now and then his thin,
shrill voice could be heard, as if spur,
ring On the tones of the organ. now ris.
ing in a wild, challenging cry:
Aux armes oitoyens! LIE jour de
glorie est arrivev'
Suddenly the organ was silent. Fa
ther Michael had sunk from his bench.
l TInv T>,,nl ILL.,, I:-.z - a~1- MI,