Democratic messenger. [volume] (Snow Hill, Md.) 1869-1973, 1899-02-25
COMING OF EVEN.

at is only the wind. said the Poet
He threw himself listcssly upon the
hard leather couch and turned his face
10 the wall
The waves dashed madly upon the
rocks below the little cottage. with
angry shrieking the wind beat up the
waves, and the moan of the storm came
upon the wind The Poet heard all
these and smiled wearly Young in
years. he was old in spirit in experience.
in enjoyment; they had no charm for
| him
He opened his lips now in discomfort
They have written So much about the
sen that one is dead sick of it all He
sighed. II can find in it nothing that
has not been found before -
He himself had written not little
concerning the beauties of the sea. but
his hand had been Young in sooth when
it held the pen. and his eyes not yet
aweary.
He turned restlessly on the couch,
bemoaning it's hardness and cursing the
| friend whose advice had sent him 10 re-
cruit at this little fishing town. throw
| ing all the burden of his disgust of life
and his own teebleness into the cursing.
Then through and botwixt the voices
of the storm came "A wailing cry; the
cry of "a lost soul ut God : gates; the
cry for the unattainahle from the lips
| of child of EARN. Rising higher and
higher. it beat s1bbingly upon the wind.
| 1t cried with the echo of the scagulls'
warming: il scattered with the soft sea
foam and sank hushing and palpitating
| into the mutter of the waves. But only
to rise again in melody 50 triumphant
as 10 override in its grandeur the voices
of the angry ocean.
1t was the great Sea Spirit. said
the Poet.
But the sound had hardly seemed to
come from the sea rather from above.
He rose and walked To the window.
1T was not the wind he said aloud.
1t was still howling but the music
had ceased. He throw open the window
and looked ont. The wind fen in blast
upon his thin face and tossed his hair.
The sea shouted at him with angry
menace, The look of the sky upon him
was without CLINT Of smile.
But again the music rose. hrt so soft
| ly that he had 10 strain his ears 10 catch
the murlnur of u half hushed cradle
song. When il ceased again. the voices
of the storm seemed 10 be sinking and
| the sea to he aweary of rage The wind
| fell and into the sky came white
| glimmer where silver star sought its
entrance 10 the heavens
The Poet stood there long. his arms
resting on the sill u dreamy look on his
old young face There had come to him
one of those moments which he fancied
had left him forever when his mind.
| like the vermont sea. could hush its
crying and he at peace
1t was only when. on his way to his
bedroom later, he passed his landlady on
the stairs that the problem of the strange
music he had heard returned to him.
1T seemed in the house. and yet not in
the house. he murmurcd to himself,
stopping her lit has been wild night,
Mrs. Lewis.
Indeed and il has, sir hut il has
settled down nicely.
1T was strange but | Thought |
heard during the storm the sound of
violin Some one has chosen "A strange
time to play.
There's Miss White. sir She has
the room above yours She teaches the
fiddle in town Goes up every day
But she's not hcon play in tonight. sir.
ami she : the only one in the place that
can
'Oh that explains it, shemust have
been playins M dser5 ii waa she
heard 80
But she hasn't h-ru rlavin tonight,
sir. b"g Y"'r plf., eor sayin it.
I've been si;fln SEWN t'i,1,eia Just
above her head. 'ii L = q = nj have
| heard she, y. y ii, Z ..;iil i3o.
The Post lae p T. bat won't ON his
way unconvincod = trange pla wing for
Il teacher of the v.ulin. h" thought,
'and strange tim" in which to play.
She must he "A straugc girl
1t never occurred 10 him. in the AFRO
gance of his few years that she might
he more than girl Indeed he speedily
forgot the whole matter But in the
| dead of the night he rose and. hastily
donning a few garments. sat till the
gray Of the morning inscribing the
thoughts of which the strange strains
had sown the seed. He had found in the
sen what he had never found before.
With the golden eve OF the sun upon
him he threw himself upon his tossed
bed and slept until after MONDAY. Aft
erward he rambled upon the shore. re
turning. tired and listleSs, mt length to
his chambers.
Miss White she's lcavin tomorrow
mornin. his landlady told him as she
laid his tea
But the Poet was not interested He
wonder, d who Miss White might be-
"lndeed 20 he drawl languidly He
roused himself to posr the fire as "A stop
per to- any other attempt at conversa-
tion. and Mrs. Lewis took the hint
But in the evening. when. with the
coming out of the stars u delicate
thread of sound wound itself through
the stiffness his interest came hacl; To
him II, threw him-elf upon his couch
and gave himself mp 10 the pleasure of
the sweet strains Yet was il hardly
pleasure. but more fin" pain There
was III thu music ulught Of the wailing
of Yesterday e. nanght of ills pleading.
naught nf its passion naught Of ,,S
hope II wa like the Poet told him
eli a wire of polished silver wire
that might turn ani twist in ones flesh
forever. YET ncV'r cause Il mortal
wonni only an in"m;uac Of pain.
Eat ihat Of yesterday WIS the broad
baip ihat Kills at ouc siroil.
And a,,ain a+ u hraa,i'ncd and
de,rcu.d and fa'ied ,noonbeam,
AWAY That - N hr muir
Murcd. WAS rcuat.l.ii. u with its
battle. its victory il ghi' sv triumph.
it, transient peace; t,aN j. rr~igna-
tion submittance viuoh has naught
of battle. of victory. ri triumph. but
only pain To-day is th.' end, an end
tina; has no end
But as h. lay there hands clasped be-
hind his tired head. lips parted in a
smile u smile nikc his. for il had
naught of SCORE in il there broke upon
the silence the opening bars of u little
rr,lud" dainty aud sweet in itself hut
the manner of lis playing u vcritabl"
triumph in modiocriiy. II waited and
cried lahorlou@lv above thu Poet 8 head
and cchu.d about III" window II broke
into painful snatchcS and Indifferent
rhs tim
Tn Toct sIraug to his feet with an