The Dawson news. (Dawson, Ga.) 1889-current, 1898-06-22
JENNY LIND,
An Old Musician Tells Pretty Story of
Her

STORY of
Her
The only person | ever met who knew
Jenny Lind in her childhood was Max
= onzden, an old musician. | asked him
to tell me of her, and the old mans fur-
rowed face became radiant with a smile.
Remember her?' said he: ''she has
been the angel OF my life; the raemory
of her voice was my salvation. She and
l were young and happy Hand in hand
we used TO wander in the fields and on
the hills of old Sweden. Years passed
and she became the idol of princesses and
kings, and from afar | worshipped her
as I would worship a star in wonder
heaven. | tried to keep pace with her
but failed. l became victim of strong
drink, and with that vile passion ambi-
ton was buried. In 1919 l was passing
Her Majesty's theater in London. | was
sober enough to recognize the clear.
ringing voice that thrilled me in nv
boyhood days. l was penniless, but de-
termined to enter and hear that voice
once more. l watched my chance.
crowd of ermine-cla men and women
were passing in. | rushed into the
thrOng, evaded the ticket agent. and
gained entrance, In Swallowed recess
I crouched and listened Lucia he
LammermOOr' was the opera. and she
was Lucia. [ saw her appear in the
first scene, joyous aud happy. Every
part OF the character she PORTRAYED with
heaTt-searching truth. Then came the
climax of her pOwers-her ultimate
madness-the crushing Of the heart and
mind which produce the death scene in
the last act. For moment there Vas
thrilling silence; then a tempest Of aD-
pIause that made the house tremble. 1t
was then l forgot ah-forgOt thai I was
a debased vagabond-fOrg0t the thrOng.
and the lights, and all, save that 7 saw
the little barefoot girl Of my bOYhood's
idolatry a queen among men. l rushed
forward and cried
" Jenny, my little Jenny. I told you
so, I said that you would one lay rule
the world with that voice. Speak To me,
and tell me that you Temem ber.'
Put him out. put him out" shouted
the multitude. He is mad--a vay with
him"
a strong arm sejzsd me, and l would
have been hurled out into the darkness,
but a sweet voice c-ied:
o
What IS it, my poor man2'
Il looked up, and, ike an angel Of
light, she stood above me.
4" Forgive me. madam, l cried [ was
passing and heard your voice, I stole
my way in. l. seemed I had a right to
listen. Once the birds and I were your
only au iirors; apd yet, when I told you
oae day yaU would be great. YOU seemed
glad at my praise, though l was only
Max, the blacksmith son.
Bending over me, she cried, Max
BrouzdeD. my first and truest friend
Stand. let this vast thrOng look upon
you. 1T was he, said she, who first
created ambition in my heart to become
great. My stage was a Iichen-cOVered
forest log, and he showered upon me
wild flowers that l priced more than I
prize the jewels and rare gifts that are
amblems of my triumph this night.
Rise. my friend. said she to me, and
he worthy of the trust and confidence
that 1 will ever give you in all the fu-
ture years, I have struggled and con
quered all difficulties II is not too late.
Beno longer a vagabOnd, as you say you
are, but be a man worthy of my friend
shir.
Il could scarcely speak." said the old
man. but hoarsely I uttered, With
God 5 help 7 EilIn
The house had been silent as death
then it suddenly burst INTO tumultuOus
applause and the curtain fell I left thai
place a new man, with new aspirations
and courage. and in ali the years since
that night, nearly half century ago,
have been a hero and q couqueror OF sin
have lived true to my words J"
5. S Ford Ty Ty, Ga.-Begg7s Diar-