The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1898-11-29
AN EXPERIMENT.

1t would have been Dad enough II inc
tune had been played correctly, for to
man brought up on Boston symphony
concerts the tunes of Mr.. Sankey are
not the most inspiring and satisfactory
music, but this performance outrivaled
anything Wilson could have dreamed
in the way of imperfections Moreover,
there was a certain insistence in the
humping that foretold frequent appli-
cation to the instrument. The racket
would probably be kept up for hours at
time and many times during the day.
What should be done about it?
Wilson poked his head from beneath
the clothes and looked around. There
was his baggage, there was the table
especially put in by kind Mrs. Hapgood
in order that he might have ample ac-
commodation for his literary work. He
might go elsewhere, but he knew that
at this one house his needs could be
satisfied, and as for going to another
town, hadn't his physician told him
with great emphasis that Boston was
the one spot, by reason of its climatic
conditions, where he could hope to ao
COulDll6u LIE bdSh WlIAOuI OAOohAhS
down? Here, then, he must stay, and if
he found that he positively could not
stand the pounding of that piano he
must find way to stop it.
All through his preparations for
breakfast the nerve wrecking attempt
at music continued. There was pause
when he opened the door to go down
"probably hunting another tune, f"
thought Wilson-and he FASTENED his
steps that he might look into the parlor
and see who it was that was apparently
destined to torment him. just as he
laid his hand on the knob of the parlor
door there was one solitary thump, as
if the performer had unwittingly drop
ped book on the keys. Next instant
the door was open and Wilson beheld
sight that filled his heart with pertur-
bations quite as exciting but far pleas
anter than those that had been caused
by the execrable playing.
Upon the piano stool, swinging
around to face him and with the Moody
and Sankey book in her hand, was a
young woman whose fresh, radiant
loneliness sent thrill straight through
his breast to the innermost core of
his spinal column. So far as Wilson
was concerned it was a case of love at
sight How else will you explain the
lamentable confusion that beset him?
How account for his sudden access of
color and his subsequent behavior?
EXCUSE me-" he stammered, trying
to Withdraw, but rooted to the spot.
"Good morning, Mr.. Wilson" she
responded, rising with admirable COM
posure and simplicity. Iwasn t at home
when you came last evening, but, of
course, knew about it. 1 am Lucy
Hapgood, and that saves mamma the
trouble of introducing us. am afraid
the piano disturbed you"
"No, no. Not at all Not in the
least, assure you, fabricated Wilson,
with alarming emphasis. What further
perjury he might have committed may
be left to the imagination, for just then
Mrs. Hapgood appeared and announced
that breakfast was ready.
All through that bountiful meal Will
son reflected. He hardly dared raise his
eyes from his plate, and for that matter
he did not need to, because where he
should have seen hot buokwheats he be-
held the lustrous orbs of Lucy Hapgood,
who sat demurely opposite. He an
swered the commonplaces of Mr.. and
Mrs. Hapgood in monosyllables and
looked up only toward the end of the
meal when Molly, a 6-year-old sister of
Lucy, came running in from the yard
with voluble excuses for being late.
Now, Wilson did not for one instant
realize what was the matter. He failed
even to suspect that he had gone daft
on Lucy Hapgood. 1t was quite appar-
emit, however, that an unforeseen ele-
ment had obtruded itself into his life
in Boston, and he attributed his discom-
posture to tine impossibility of asking
that superb creature to let the piano
alone. If she had been mere child or
an ordinary raw country girl, it would
have been easy enough, but-uhe end of
it was that Wilson decided upon trying
an experiment. He would teach her to
play.
Being naturally an honest man, Will
SON first step was to correct his previ-
GUS falsehood. Finding Miss Lucy dust
ing in the parlor, he said: 81 want to
be frank with you, Miss Hapgood. The
piano this morning did disturb me a
good deal, and 1 am afraid could not
stand that kind of music right along,
don't you know"
81 felt sure of it," she answered,
with equal frankness. sit shall not hap
pen again, Mr.. Wilson.
"But l should hate to deprive you of
the pleasure of playing the instrument,
be added hastily, "and don't mean TO.
l was just going to make suggestion. "
She was looking at him with such in
terest and attention that poor Wilson
could hardly continue, but he succeeded.
"I'd like to give you lesson or two.
You see Miss Hapgood, if your playing
took the form of regular practice in
stead of-er-what you were doing this
morning l think could stand it, and l
never feel in the least disturbed when
-er-the performance is fairly COR
rect"
Lucy turned her gaze to the floor,
and her glorious color heightened.
81 don't play so very we'll myself, :"
continued Wilson, ''but l could teach
you the elements and after time you
would be able to pick out tunes with
satisfaction to-er - your
self
81 should like to learn admitted
Lucy, looking up with most engaging
smile, land if you will give me lessons
can manage my practioing SO that you
will not be disturbed. There's piano
in the church vestry that can use all
I want to, and can practice there. "
"Finer' exclaimed Wilson, and sc
rejoiced was he at the promising sue
cess of his experiment that he suggested
a first lesson forthwith. Lucy hesitated,
but eventually put aside her duster,
hunted up an old instruction book anc
sat at the piano beside Wilson, listen
ing with docile attention to his remarks
about do, "a, me, the names OF tht
keys and the lingering Of the SCALE Ht
showed her how to hold her hand, ind
ing it necessary, of course, to place hel
fingers in position with his own, al
operation that 80 bewildered him tina
wnen he went to his writing he couldn'
put down single satisfactory sentence
Well, such was the beginning. Ther'
was daily lesson for two weeks muct