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

(Copyright, 1901 by Daily Story Pub. Coz
When they brought me poor Czeran's
much-prized StradvariO, l was touched
too deeply for words. We had been fell
low-instructors at the Great American
conservatory, and this precious bequest
from him was meant as an evidence OF
his sincere friendship.
placed the priceless instrument on the
Louis XIV. cabinet just across from my
bed That night my thoughts were OF
him continually. The proximity OF
Czeran's violin was next to CZerah
presence, as far as | was concerned.
While preparing to retire. shot IN
voluntarily gances toward the oblong
ebony case. 1t looked like miniature
coffin. l had never thought of that be-
fore. but tha semblaHce grew at every
glance At last ! studiedly averted my
eyes and hurried into bed. l hastily
turned out the light lest l should be
tempted to look at it again.
| had been asleep some time when
loud, STUNNING noise aroused me sud
denly. 1t came from the Louis XIV. COR
ner. Scarce believing my ears, | sat up
to listen. Yes. Enthusiastically some one
was tuning the violin. My daughter
Isolde and ] were the only occupants or
the little house on the edge of the town.
"Isolde." | cried, but no answer came.
Beside, what did Isolde want with the
violin at such an unearthly hour?
The instrument having been tuned.
there came a few preparatory scales as
a sort of prelude. Then there floated up
a soft, plantive melody-the willow song
from Nerdis "Othelo.' / had heard
Czeran play it often. but never so visit
fully. never so plaintively. seeming to
weave the air into cloudlets of harmony.
was enthralled and not until it ceased
did it occur to me that there We're no tam
gible arm ana fingers producing the mys-
tic air.
AT the thought sat up aghast. Fear
fully I struck a match, and lit the gas
jet over my bed 7 glanced apprehen-
Sively at the violin case. 1t rested there
as before. all serene and unconscious Of
my dread. | slowly crept out Of bed, and
went staringly toward it. 1t began an
other air Just as | was half way across
the room. 1t was Verdi again-the gay,
tinlSling music of "Falstaff." Sparkling
and vivid came the sprightly syncopa-
tons and the merry staccati The laugh
there. the careless jolity-every tone. so
familiar to me. Had not CZeran played
it to me again and again? Yet, the
briliancy was even more mastery than
his, if that were possible. 1t was an exc
cution to hold a magnificent audience
spellbound. And there was I-merely L
alone and shvering upon the creaking
floor listening with more fear than pleas
u:a
The happy song over, again I started
toward the Louis XIV. cabinet. l tmidly
l.a1 tIe nd finn I, l., no
prepared for anything, almost. But there
was nothing unusual about the yellow
brown violin resting innocently against
the velvet lining of the box. The bow
was securely caught i'm the cOncave lid.
lust as poor CZeran had fastened it the
last time. Reverently 1 unclasped it,
taking the violin from its crimson bed.
l had often handled the instrument in
Czeran's rooms, playing the few violin
airs l knew. l had learned them in my
very young days, when my greatest am
biton was to be a famous violinist. That
dream had passed in it's good time, as
cd many dreams of youth. Czeran had
always encouraged me to play those airs.
1t amused him immensely to sit and
watch me bungle through them. No
wonder he laughed-Czeran, who could
play with perfection any violin score ever
written.
With far different feelings, I now took
up the dead masters love. Tentatively,
drew a low pizzicato from it's silken ].
string. 1t was as though an unseen
player had waited for the Keynote Sud
denly, the room was filled with another
divine melody, an invisible bow drawing
out the magic music. I held the instru-
ment- at arms length. 1t made no differ
ence-the music was determined to come
Gounod's serenade It was. Gently, low
ingly, it was played, as the French COM
poser meant it, am sure Awestruck,
listened to the ineffable tenderness
poured in that rapturous lovesong. Ha6
CZeran ever surpassed it, I asked my
SELF
Silence returned and hastily replaced
the violin and snapped the caselid down
I slipped into bed, and, there in the
darkness, with my ears taut 1 breath
1essly awaited the next song. 1t came
but with crash, like a summer storm
or a great battle. AS the bow raspet
violently on the G string, I almost saw
the flash of weapons the hatred on the
soldiers faces, the momentOus hesitation
the bitter defeat Of the weaker and the
dying groans and curses. Then a chang,
to four sharps-the exultation of the con
queror, the fanfare of Victory's trum
pets, reverberant and joyous In on,
intense burst came the crashing finale
l regained my breath with a certain re
lief. My heart thumped loudly withal
/ covered my face and endeavored t,
sleep, but that music seemed all-per