The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1898-03-19
The IhrelkeId Ear.
"a story in Five Parts. By C. A. Ra
mond.)

4 tent listening, she tnOOgnt 10 nerSeIIs re-
minded suddenly of Mr.. Threlkeld's fire.
quent air of strained attention to some
imperceptibIe sound She was impressed
by it anew, seeing this travesty of the IA
miliar look on the old servants face.
What do you hear, Mounsey?" she
said, as she poured out the coffee.
The old man stared.
Hear. ma amp"
YES"
Nothing. ma'am. Is there some
thing
Yes. You've heard strange things here
in your time, now. haven't you?"
only O Christmas Eve"
"Ah, what them"
fair deaf The Threlkelds have got good
ears. They sharpens EN- COP once a
year"
"Once year,"
AYE. O. Christmas Eve" and he hob
bled out with his tray.
That night, when Mr.. Threlkeld joined
his daughter-in-law in the hall, he found
her playing softly on an old guitar. AS he
came in he made sign that she should
go on, and sat down without word on
the other side Of the shaded lamp. She
played on, with a curious delicacy of
touch, subduing the sound as If she were
afraid of waking one who slept. The old
man sat motioniess, half hidden behind
the massive bronze lamp with its great
dropping shade of silk. The fire burnt
low. The room was full of shadows, the
ladys eyes were full of dreams. Her
thoughts went wandering down the long
green alleys of her youth, trailing soft
strains after her as she went, like intri-
cate woven garlands. 1t was with music
she had won her woman's kingdom; all
the best of life had reached her through
that gate. After long grief and silence
she entered in again, trembling at first,
uncertain, memory weighted. Then the
old joy came back-came back in floods.
pouring through her white fingers. quick
ening her pulses and the time. In twink
ling she was in Paris. She was seventeen.
Young Threlkeld was teaching her and
her sister a Moorish dance. But she was
the one he loved. 1t was that night he
told her. She struck into the fantastic
tune with the old sense of victory ting
ling in her veins. every nerve answering
electrically the barbarfc abandon of the
air Suddenly she started. Two great
corpse-white hands were held up before
her The crashing music faltered, and
died in low discord. The outstretched
hands dropped under the lapplght- Old
christopher Threlkeld leaned forward
putting out his pale hands again as if
fearful she might begin afresh
How you brighten me-" said his daugh-
ter-in-law; Il couldn't see you. Your
hands came out of the gloom like an ap-
partition" Then, as he sank back with
out speaking, What is the matter? DO
1 play badly?'
mo, no." the words came low and hur-
bah
beauty, madam; you have another gift no
Threlkeld can Withstand"
why did you stop my playing?"
THAT last ART takes one by the
throat" he shivered slightly. Don't play
that again."
Your son liked it,
81 can easily believe 1t wrought upon
him. 1t is like strong drink.
They sat silent for time
'Since YOU have a Threlkeld to bring
up" said the old man presently, you
should know that the perception of
sound in my family is preternaturally
acute and sensitive. certain KIND or
music is a passion with US, but much of
our keenest suffering comes to US through
our ears. The dulIness of other people
in the matter of sound is almost incredible
to a Threlkeld. The delicate sounds 9TH
ers can not hear. the harsh sounds others
so easily endure, are to us a lifelong mar
vel You may have noticed how your
son, who is brave enough before other
ideas of danger. shrinks at harsh or un-
couth noise as if he had been struck"
Yes, I've come to realize his over
sensitiveness. 1 hope he will outgrow
it"
''He will carry it to his grave. 1t lies
as deep as the roots of race. There's an
old saying that a Threlkeld can hear the
blast the carved angels on the battlements
are blowing through their pipes Of
stone.'
The lady smiled.
you remind me how I've often tried
in vain to catch the sounds my hoy says
he hears Faint bird-notes. l think, and
the drone of insects. Specially since we
came here into the country he
Yes, yes, it comes back to US, it grows
upon US in the quiet here. There is no
doubt the world has much to learn of
the power and the subtleties of sound.
The enormous nerve-stimulus it could be
nader
81 should have thought the great com
posers had discovered that, and even the
buglers in a battle"
Quite true, and the devil who invented
your Moorish dance! He realized that
I
audacious and bewildering sounds, would
make the sober drunk and the sane mad.
But apart from what is called musical
composition" he dropped his voice,
there's an undiscovered country
The Undiscovered Country" she ask
ed suddenly.
The old man looked away.
1T is only the dullness in mems ears.
he said, half to himself. that makes
them think the rest is silence"
''You have heard" she began I'M
certainly.
Christopher Threlkeld rose.
'If YOU were blind, madam, 1 could not
show you the sun" He walked away
into the shadow, and came back, stand
ing before her THE man who sleeps
by a mill or a cataract grows deaf 10 the
roar Whoever lives in the turmoil OF
town must overcome his Sensitiyeness to
sound, or he would go mad. So is dull
cared race evolved. I've sometimes
thought the evil noises Of the modern
world are its most hideous curse. The
effect is the hopeless bunting Of the
sound sense. None but savages and dwell
ers in the wilderness are left today with
hearing unimpaired. And then men won
der that H'm!" Again he walked
away.
.=
Crazy Arkansawyer.
,o.F,-a If Camden Ark D F ,JefTus.