The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1897-05-26
SELECTED STORY.
The Man who Spoiled the Music,

likely to believe. He loved music; his
voice was often heard ringing out roll
licking song in the tap room. And II
kept coming to him, in at least score
of different ways-he himself was the
man who spoiled all the musicl
He was not in the brightest possible
condition for an argument, and GER
tainly not in a humor to be convinced
of truth that he did not want TO be-
lieve; and yet convinced he was, and
every minute added to his conviction.
Every sight about him, and the silence,
if not the sounds, forced it home upon
him, 80 that there could not possibly be
any mistake.
1t was Sunday afternoon about four
O'Clock. He was leaning against the
wall by the dirty fireplace, unwashed
and in his shirt sleeves. The room
looked as wretched as the man himself,
and as dirty; blackened and broken,
with dirty window panes either plas-
tered over with paper or stuffed out
with rags. The rickety furniture was
there simply because it could fetch
nothing elsewhere. Seated on the other
side Of the fireplace was the white-faced
and slatternly wife, holding tiny bit
of mortality at her breast, and breath
ing heavy sigh that told of burden
there great deal heavier than the
baby.
One word summed the whole reason
of the wretchedness-dri Not
bad sort of man but this one thing.
able to earn good wages and to have
comfortable home; yet no idle mis-
creant ever dwelt amid greater squalor
or kept all about him in greater misery.
So il was on this Sunday afternoon,
Jack stood, as cross as could be, ready
to let out his misery upon the first VIC
tim he could find, as if any one were to
be blamed for it sooner than himself
Then it was the door opened suddenly
with bang, and in burst two little
maidens singing merrily; eyes and
faces, hands and feet, all were full OF
music. They had come from the Mis-
sion Sunday-school, and the last hymn
was in their ears and came cheerily
ringing from their lips:
lam so glad that our Father in heaven
Tells of his love in the book he has given
They had just got to the line of the
chorus, g am 30 glad" and it came in
at the opened door with such bound
ing gladness as they lifted the latch
and felt that they were in the freedom
of the home" am 80 glad "-then
suddenly they came far enough to see
their father. Instantly the voices were
silenced, the sunshine died out of their
eyes. With frightened look filling
their faces they shrank outside the
door again and shut it noiselessly.
The silence that followed was I'M
broken by sound. The wife sat
F,,1lu 1noly;no OF tho h1anEpnpH
ashes of the fireplace, with the little
one asleep in her arms. That abrupt
and sudden silence smote Jacks heart;
those changed faces, and the little
frightened maidens hushed like that
he felt that he had done it all. He
seemed to hear again the happy burst,
" am so glad" and then that dreadful
stopping. He was going to ask with an
oath why they didn't go on singing,
but they weren't there, and so it was
no use to do that; besides, he knew well
enough, too well, why they had stopped,
so it came about that he lifted himself
from the wall and thrust himself
hercely into his jacket, and went SLOUGH
ing towards the door. He strobe out
of the court and away on, anywhere,
until he got outside the streets and into
the more quiet and pleasant roads;
then he slackened his pace. The
fierceness had turned to grief, and at
last there came the words muttered to
himself. "That's what l am always
doing; spoil all the music"
1t was dreadful 10 think of it as he
turned it over. How much it meant!
He thought of his wife, and of the
sweet voice she had long ago, and how,
back in the old times, they had sung
together. And now to think of her
sitting there 30 white-faced and silent!
She never even sang the baby off to
sleep-only kept on signing. "Any-
how, not when am there" said Jack;
81 spoil all the music"
1t was dreadful to think about it, of
the places he had been in as carpen-
ter, and the chances he had had, and
how one after another he had lost them
all through the drink, and now the first
to get the notice to quit, the last to be
offered Job, was he who had prided
himself on his work. ooh, dear, I've
been spelling all the music for years,
sighed Jack.
So it came about that poor Jack, 81
burdened and helpless, stopped there
and then, and put his face into hi
hands and said "God help me-" HI
had gone on, never thinking where h
was going, until now he found himsel
outside the long stretch of the houses
and was under the green trees, and il
the midst of the fields. The lark san!
overhead, the thrush and the blackbir
rang out their richest notes; in tn
branches above him q crowd of spar
rows met and chirped the very loudest
merriest music they had ever learned
And there, in the sunset, Jack leane
on gate and let his soul flow out
God in helplessness and sorrow an
longing.
1t was quite dark before he passe