The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1898-01-22

the 1rishwoman looked down for his usual
smils of recognition. And to only one or
two was there anything pathetic in the
white haired bent figure fallen so low.
When the old mans turn came he walked
upon the stage with bent head, and bowed
indiffently to the audience. Then he
raised his violin and leaned to it, with
supple wrist poised His SOLO was (of
couse!) "The Carnival Of Venice" and
he played it with every conceivable varia-
ton, with every possible and some seem
ipgly impossible trick Of bow. At each
feat the enthusiasm of the audience waxed
greater. 1t was wonderful, more wonder
full than the contortions of "the Unique
Pantomimist. He played it on one
string at last, and finishing with really
splendid effort of double-stopping, bowed
as indifferently as before, and backed to-
ward the stage.door. But the audience
would have an encore, and thumped and
clapped until the favorite reappeared.
( Again he bowed and raised his fiddle to
his shoulder, The orchestra waited his
signal. There was moments silence,
and everybody wondered, as the dull eyes
fell upon the front rows in sort Of dazed
recollection.
The old violinist stood motonless, star-
ing before him. DR.. Lathom thought he
had been recognized, and leaned forward,
! 1,,,% -. Il
The bass-viol shrugged his shoulders at
the tlute-he wondered what was going to
happen.
| And then strange thing did happen.
For instead of another display of musical
pyrotechnics, the audience heard a soft,
low ripple of sound coming from some
where far, far away, somewhere they had
all known in dreams-a ripple like the
waves, in that most fascinating Of time,
the trpled triplets
Into the lipping presently stole en- air,
like song on the water, or larli's note
Elderly people hogan to think dimlv OF a
bygone time. and young ones OF days to
come, and lovers leaned little closer, IN
consciously, and those who were lonely
sighed as unconsciously and listened, for
the melody promised something more,
something sweeter, more passionate, more
profound. 1t promised and then delayed,
dallying coyly, dropping into a rallentando,
glancing back into crescendo of quick
coming notes, retarding, accelerating, rs-
ing into noble, even utterance, regular with
the triplets of the undersong. hurried with
passion that sought a perfection beyond
the reach of aspiration.
Again the ripple OF the river, the soft,
seductive voice Of love, mans pleading,
woman's melting second; then faint
suggestion Of lullaby, and home and
peace and quiet rest. But the old unrest
was under all, the striving after somethin:
yet unattained. Sweeter, clearer, purcr,
rose the melody, as the under-curreut
ceased. The notes seemed as If they would
pierce the infinite to find the secret. At
last, in note so high, 50 exquisitely fine,
that people held their breath to hear it, the
melody itself ceased, leaving silence as
exquisite behind it-a silence rspt yet ex-
pectant. 1t continued for few seconds,
ami then the storm broke.
Ia their excitement few noticed how the
violinist tottered as he turned to leave the
stage; they only saw that he was leaving
them, apparently unmoved and they
wanted him back again. They admired
him before, now they loved him, and he
must know the must! They clapped
and shouted themselves hoarse. But DR..
Lathom left his seat and went through the
little door leading back to the stage. His
daughter followed him, she knew not why
but she gave little cry as her father, run
ming forward, caught the old nan in bis
arms. One Of the troupe was standing by,
aud between them they carried him into a
dressing-room just off the stage.
The audience shouted and called in vain