The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1896-03-25


cral ehowered disintti n upon me.
After ward l learned that some pr
oners eere to be executed that morr-
ing. A presenliment filed my mind.
Can Basilio be among thcmY |
execution. The soldiers of the firing
squad had already taken their position.
/ heard The report of the rifles as they
rang out in voleJs on the still morning
air. Al length | reached the scene
and threw my eyes rapidly along the
line of Victime, but | can see nothing.
Anguish blinds me; fear unnerves me.
AT length | distinguish you but two
places removed from that of DEATH
What is to he done? ] go mad, give
shout, break through the line of soldiers,
and rush to your side, and, flinging my
arms around you, exclaim hoarsely:
"' This one, mol This one, no, my
general "
THE general who was in charge of
the execution and who knew me so fa-
vorably by my behavior in the previous
days battle asked Curiously.
60 Why? Ia he musician?'
"Thot word was for me what it
would be for man born blind to sud
denly see the sun in al its splendor.
The light of hope fell on my eyes and
dazzled them.
g. Musicianl' cried. Yes, yes, my
general. A musician, a great musicianP
"' What instrument does he playY
inquired the general.
"'The-the - err - that is-why, of
course. the cornell He plays the cor
nett
go Are we in need of cornet player?'
said he, turning to the leader OF the
band. Five seconds, five eternities,
before the answer came:
"' Yes, general; one is needed
"' Well, them continued the gen.
ersl, remove that man from the ranks
and let the executions proceed at once
"Then l caught you in my arms and
brought you here"
Scarcely had Ramon ceased speaking
when l arose, trembling, and between
laughter and tears embraced him, say
ing:
- owe my life to you"
I" Hardly that" replied Ramon.
Wha do you mean?" exclaimed.
"Can you play the cornet?" he asked.
mo"
"Then you do not owe me your life;
rather it is that | have compromised
my own safety without securing yours"
1 felt my heart grow cold within me.
"And music" he continued, " do
you know anything of that?"
Very little. You will remember
what they taught us in college,"
" Little, indeed, or, better said, moth
ing" replied Ramon. You will die,
without the slightest doubt, and also
as traitor. Just think of it! In tif-
teen days the band to which you belong
is to be organized"
Fifteen days!"
Neither more nor less. And as
you will not be able to take your place
in it (for God will not work miracle)
we shall both be shot,
"To put you to DEATH" / cried.
"You, for my sake; for me, whom you
have risked your life to savel All,
heaven will not permit it. Within tif-
teen days l shall learn to play the
cornell
Ramon burst into a laugh.
What more shall say, my children?
In fifteen days-oh, power of the hu-
man within fifteen days, with their
fifteen nights-for l slept no more than
nature compelled in half mOnth-in
fifteen days had learned to play the
cornet.
What DAYS those were! Ramon and
| left camp early each morning and
passed hours with musician who
came from a neighboring village to
teach me.
Escape! l can read this thought in
your eyes. All, nothing more impossi-
BILE. l was a prisoner. They never
relaxed their vigilance, and Ramon did
not wish to escape without me.
1t seems to me now as if in all that
time could neither eat nor sleep nor
think of aught save my cornet. l was
insane, and music was my monomania.
| was resolved to learn, and | did
And if had been dumb l should have
spoken, and paralytic, l should have
walked; and blind, should have seen
because willed it.
Oh, the will answers for all. Reso-
| luton is power. Children, learn this
great truth--to will is to achieve.
| saved thus my life and that of my
friend. But | went mad, and my mad
ness was the art | had learned. 1t
might be said that in three years the
cornet never left my hand. Dc-re-mi'
fa-sol la-si--behold my world during
that time.
But Ramon did not abandon me. To-
gether we emigrated to France, and
there 1 continued my playing. The
cornet was myself-it seemed to rims
in my mouth. The people, the nota
bilities in the art, all gathered to heal
me. 1t was wonder, a marvel. The
cornet seemed to yield TO my fingers
it became elastic; it moaned; it wept
it cried aloud; it initiated the birds, The
wild beasts, the human sob
Thus passed two years more. AT thu
end of that time Ramon died. Gazing
upon my friends dead body, RECOVERED
my reason, and when, then in my RICH
mind, one day took up the cornet ant
tried to play, found to my astonish
ment that the power had left me.
Will you now ask me to play tun
for your dance?-Chicago Tribune.