Daily inter mountain. [volume] (Butte, Mont.) 1881-1901, 1901-02-28

e $500 ....,.,--@ ~,,0,sa, *
5 TIE HAUNTED VIOLIN. s
g BY Anna consueh. q
BY Anna consu1ieh.



vadng, even after it had ceased. Quiet
and calm were impossible, long after
the last paean of victory. The grey
light of dawn came in through the shut
tiers to remind me that ] had lost
nights rest. l turned OF the wall with
sigh and remembered nothing more.
On the morrow, bedtime came to me
as a thing of terror, forcibly bringing
me back to childhoOd's days. Isolde hur-
ried me off unfeelingly.
Nov, papa, don't bother with those
papers tonight. Look at the time! And
you said this morning that you had not
slept an hour last night! Come on"
She gave me my walking papers-or,
rather. my little brass candle-stick-
there was no opposing her--I had tried
it before without success. She battered
off to her room after she had kissed me
good night.
l trembed for the spirit player to EEe
gin. He did not keep me waiting long.
At the same hour the tuning became
audible. Then, as if telling a painful
story, yet trying to be calm, the must
| clan played in low, subdued tone. With
| marvellous light and shade were told the
wrongs suffered. Involuntarily it rose
| to loud protest, to high, harsh desire for
| revenge. Slowly, surely the acute tones
| swelled into intense wrath and weird,
unearthy hate. Unconsciousy I cover
ed my face with my hands, as though to
avert a terrible danger impending But,
| nO-the climax passed without disas-
| ter. A last impotent cry certainly not
| earthly, then the melody swung back
to hopelesssness and despair.
What magic hands were these which
! -, 4
fering strings. 1 shuddered at the last
unutterable wall trailing into silence. l
closed my eyes tightly. Silence was a
divine relief.
When l had regained my usual calm
| carried the violin to the drawingroom.
across the hall. / closed the door and
| returned to my room. I thought I
would not hear it so plainly, if at ALL
| But the haunted violin was not to be
| thwarted so. AS kicked off my dress
| ing slippers, it carolled out a blithsome
drinking song. 1t came from the cab
met corner. Evidently the spirit had
come to stay.
l gave up in despair
Rollicking airs followed one another.
The spirit had acquired a jolly mood,
it seemed. He played one of my best be-
loved songs from the Barber of Seville"
| Our old piano was not far from my bed,
the song was irresistible. and-well, I
proceeded to accompany the jocund
spirit. The violin ceased abruptly.
Evidently it did not like my touch or
| expression. or both.
The loud ripple of the piano keys
brought Isolde aghast to my door.
Good gracious, papa, what are you
doing? Are you crazy?'
| accompanying the violin. It's such a
pretty ar-I couldn't help it,
"Violin? Air? Are you dreamng?"
SO Certainly not. Haven't you heard
Czerans violin all this time?''
" Now, I know you are talking in
your Sleep" Islode replied with convic-
| ton. "HOw can poor Professor Czeran
play when he S dead?"
It's his spirit that plays it every
night. Didn't YOU
But Islode had rushed from the room
She quickly returned with six or eight
medicine bottles in her arms.
Take something, dear papa. You are
not bit well.'
This then, was my haunted violin.
/ I'm we'll and neither crazy nor dream
ing. I don't need any of that stuff
A knock at the door ended our debate
neighborhood,' Isolode exclaimed re-
neighborhood, Islode exclaimed, re-
proachfully.
! Neither of us We're in reception attire
but, considering the hour. that was not
to be expected. Isolode hurriedly with.
drew while 1 went to the door, carefully
turning the knob.
In the half opened door a tall young
fellow stood looking at me, an Apologize
smile on his good looking face. At the
sight of a violin under his arm it was
my turn to smile. This, then, was my
haunted violin!
In a few words he told me his story
Il came here last week from Italy," he
said in faulty English. My father los
all he had. I never learned anything
worth knowing, except Playing the violin
l thought I could find something to dc
| in this great country. I have sough
night and day but no one cares to try
incompetents, it seems. My violin wa:
my only comfort. l spent the nights il
deserted barns and Easements
thought this house was not occupied.
am grieved to know that disturbed you
When I heard the piano I came up t,
apolOgize-yOur room must be over tn,
spot chose for my rest. l will go some
} where else tomorrow night and you will
forgive me. sr?"
But I did not let him go. I found on
, more about him and his family, an in
: tiuential one in Tuscany, I was after
ward told. The upshot of my interes
was that he was appointed to the va
} cancy left by Czeran's death in the Grea
American Conservatory. His genius ha