The San Francisco call., 1897-12-19

was to be the grandest part of the
whole mass, and Paoli followed rap
idly, breathlessly, note after note of
the music
Suddenly he stopped short and
jumped to his feet, with eyes aglow
and nerves atremble. One moment he
bent over the music with fascinated,
burning gaze, the next to walk up and
down the small apartment humming
softly, then to seat himself again, muir
muring, Il would not have arranged it
so; B fiat here and a minor there
the words came rapidly, almost mar
ticulate with the intensity of the in
spiration that came to him as he view
ed the music spread out on the
table. Then suddenly seating himself
at the precious harmonium he COM
menced to play, softly, tenderly, using
the composers air, but his own har-
mony, humming the words in low,
sweet tones. AT the solo he began to
sing aloud, in the enthusiasm of his
improvisation forgetful Of everything
but the music before him.
His voice rose clear and sweet, full
of the intense emotion that filled his
soul. Bell-like it rang out through the
COlO L1SnI dlIg anu ~ SleiA SlOA
from his DOING in friendly doorway,
looked heavenward, half expecting to
see an angel host. A drunken man,
stumbling by, paused in his uncertain
walk, then took off his hat and crossed
himself. Flosca smiled in her sleep as
the first sweet tones fitted by her
dreaming ear; but now awakened she
stole to the door, fearing to disturb
Panii'C inCfNirot hU n0IIOh
sound. She stood there, clasping her
night robe over her breast, staring
with soulful, tear-dimmed eyes-mo
tionless, speechless-until Paoli had
sung to the end of the mass, uncon-
scious of everything but the music-his
music.
''It is grand, o Paoli! 1t is heavenly"
Flosca murmured, in low tones, as one
speaks in the sacred precincts of
cathedral. The player staggered to his
feet and turned toward her a face
glorified.
"It is Mozart's Mass, and I have
changed it. Do you hear, Flosca mia?
/, Paoli, have made more beautiful the
work of the great master. L" but,
unable to bear up under the excite
ment the little artist sank to the floor,
with Flosca's soft, warm arms around
his neck, a smile on his lips and the
music of paradise in his ears.
By working from the dark of the
morning to the dark of the night Paoh
delivered the mass on time, and, with
few hurried words of explanation to
Father Bassini, fed, not having the
courage to stay and listen to the re-
hearsal.
The priest, with a look of surprise on
his face, hastened to the organ-loft
and distributed the parts to the wait
ing musicians. The organist began the
prelude, the orchestra took up the
music, the artists commenced to sing,
and Father Bassini was listening to
the grandest mass he had ever heard.
| He noticed the changes that had been
made, and, thorough musician that he
was, he knew that Paoli had made no
mistake. When the rehearsal was over
the soprano excitedly inquired the
name of the arranger. Father Bassini
repaired to his study with the praises
of the players and singers ringing in
| his ears and a look of pleased perplex-
ity on his benevolent face.
That man is a genius" he NUT
tered to himself. Il must see him in
the morning" And when the morning
came Paoli, answering the tap at the
friend standing there to greet him with
! graduation on his face.
The mass was a grand success, my
son, and have called to congratulate