The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1898-12-17

Now. farther still and hidden in some
deeper recess of the organ forest, another
voice awakes
II calls back to the pleading voice with
ioy and courage.
Then another and another wakes and
sings. and soon the place is full of music
and fragrance and beauty, and the tree
tons shake it out upon the air, like dewy
drops. .,
Now the echoes, murmuring the last
cadence over and over, to get it by heart,
die away them selves, and all is stlA.
"That's very good, Dayy," said Draxy,
tired of being princess chained to the
wall, and stretching her active little limbs
in a brisk walk up and down the stage.
Suddenly she trotted off down the steps,
and Dayy, looking after her, saw her talk
ing to poor old woman who was clean
ing the floor.
s'What you doingP" piped Draxy in her
friendly way.
sFaith, darrlin,'' said the old woman,
Strengthening up and holding one hand to
her back, g tbs claiming up bit am,
shure. -
"Oh, said Draxy, peeping into the bas-
ket of torn scraps, II suppose you are the
janitress."
'sJinnethress, is itp Faith, then, per-
haps that is it. scroob the fiures and
stairs beyant outside, and pick the stool
they throw down in here.
Draxy looked at her thoughtfully.
ssThat is too hard" she said at length in
decisive little tone. "What ails your
poor backs"
tsGod bless ye, darrlin, and kare ye
long from the same. tbs rhumati2 IT,
and me ould bones are crackin Vic 1T.
livery tonne l rise meself from pickin up
these little cards.
s.Poor woman! Who makes you do
such hard works' said Draxy, beginning
in another aisle to pick up torn checks
and programmes.
ssMe ould man is bedrid this five year,
and the little childther-the grandchild-
Their, darrlin, wild the poor mother in
hiven-God be merciful to her swate soul
II works to kape the little ohildther.
ooh. I'm real sorry for you," said
Draxy, coming back to the basket, with
her skirt held up like an apron and filled
with scraps.
sAh, God bless heri What's this, at all?
Is it piokin up the cards ye are, darrlinf
Look at that now All, go and sit down
wild We, miss, dear. Shure, ye muslin It be
doin the loikes of that. +"
"No, I'm just going to help you. I
was here last night, and SO you see made
part of this litter" said Draxy.
ssWhyp' she exclaimed again directly.
'sThey stick into this mating SO. And
it's miles and miles up and down these
rows of seats. .
And away went Draxy, picking up
scraps for dear life and saying to herself
that she would never tear up and scatter
checks or programmes again as long as
she lived.
So the poor charwoman and the little
maid went up and down, hard at work,
while the soft Christmas twilight fell
without, and the great fugue rolled and
Numbered from the organ.
oh, what thing it was to hear the
mighty rumble of that giant bassi You
could feel it shake the floor beneath your
feet. 1t made the balconies yibrate and
| trenble and sometimes the great hall
seemed almost to rock and roll with sound.
Then, when it ended, there was such
silence that the slow ticking of the great
clock seemed like the heart beats OF the
place. which you could hear because 1T
was SO still.
Dayy had finished practicing, and his
little sister, half way down the hall, was
wondering why he did not come out and
call her. She began to look often toward
the stage and then at the great clock face
on the balcony
Hark Could that have been strain of
music. or was it the sad, sad voice of some
one grieyfngP
Draxy and the old woman turned at the
first sound and looked toward the organ.
They had scarcely listened while the
great fugue was rolling through the hall.
But something drew them nearer to this
magical strain, and they crept toward it
step by step
What is Davy playing? Oh, what is
this that is making tears fall fast on the
two faces it has drawn SO near?
1t was music that was never written
| music that was never heard before and
will not be heard again, for Davy is in
spired. He is playing from his own soul.
This is his farewell to music and to all his
hopes and dreams. The organ grieves for
him. The master on his pedestal listens
sadly aud seems almost to stir with pity.
At last there comes a piteous strain,
then wild crash across the keys, and
Dayy has flung his head down on his
arms. The music is ended.
| ''dOOQUy, SoouUy! 10 WuispSrou, hAoo :
ing the yellow keys where his face lay hid
den.
"Oh, Davyl'' sobbed little voice, and
! Draxy's arms were around his neck, her
soft, wet cheek pressed close to his. just
then gruff old voice said:'
ssCome, comel This won't dol Stop
this snivelingl"
An arm that seemed too fatherly ana
gentle to belong to such voice took in
| Davy and Draxy at once as they sat on
the organ seat, and seemed to hug them
| and shake them at the same time.
"Comel What's the matter here, say?"
| Where he had dropped from was the
mystery Had he been hiding in some
recess of the organ?
Impossible to say But there he was,
looking very grim, except about the eyes,
| which were kind, and-was it possiblep--
had a suspicious wetness about them, In
| spite of his orders against sniveling.
| Davy turned around, pale and dazed--
scarcely aroused yet from his dream.
"Sirl'' he said, half proudly, half sadly.
"What are you crying abouti" demand
| I'D