Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1902-02-08
THE CELLIST'S NOTE.
BY JOIN u. BATTERY.

cory bHab overlooked Ine grand care OF bDe
Hotel Cecil. Sometimes when 50 directed,
be played SOLO raumerei," or Ave
Maria" or some serenade whatever the
/ leader might select az suitable for the chang
ing temper of the crowd Herr Weyrich,
the cellist, did not bother his head about
these cafe audiences He was not hattered
+ by occasional applause nor depressed when
his performance was ignored. He knew that
cafe audiences gencrdally approved Of noth-
ing tin their bellies were full, and thereafter
| appauded everything; therefore he despised
! their opinions and played bis cello as he was
bid, with no other inspiration than the
/ three dollars when each performance yield
ed to him
AT home in his attic studio, with no chat
! tering, drinking, munching mob around
him, lis beloved cello became the singing
soice Of his spirit, grooming the wordless
anthems Of his hopes and fears and calling
back the memories Of his youth and pas
sions
. For Herr Weyrich was no longer young.
The brown curls about his ears were turn
ing white, and he no longer cared TO sit
where he could watch the women listening
to his cello. With the younger men of the
orchestra it was quite different They
were yet glad to play at the pretty guests
who sonnet INES nodded smiling encores at
them.
With these young fellows "a request"
from the audience was still an event, and
scrubbed note asking for the repetition of
solo caused the honored performer no
slight qualification An occasional bou-
quet, followed by demure and furtive
glances exchanged across the balcony rail-
ing, had already made the handsome young
first violinist an object of envy TO the cor
net and to the flute. Only the cellist rose
superior to these friyolties, and though
many eneores bore evidence OF his popu-
larity, he had never deigned to inquire by
word or look whence came the demand
for more Of his music And so the young
men of the orchestra yielded to him meas
ure Of respect which lost nothing in the half
familiar, half reverent epithet Papa with
which they referred to him.
1t was near midnight Of All Halloween.
Papa Weyrich had played "Traumerei'
neither better nor worse than he had played
1t hundreds of times before. The applause
had merged into the usual buzz Of voices
and the clatter of silver and china A
waiter came up to the little balcony, and
thrusting MS head between palms, said
"A note for the cello player"
Papa Weyrich gingerly took the extend
ed card, while every eye in the orchestra
bulged with astonish rent A note for Papa
Weyrichl He held it at arms length, as if
reading, while he passed it on to the leader
Then his smooth honest face went white
and red by turns His land trembled, his
bow fell on the floor, mis- eyes stared at the
writing
Whats wrong, Weyrich?" asked the
leader, coming over to him.
Nothing at all" lied the cellist; "some-
body wants me to play 'Traum der SEN
nerin' Shall II"
He was plainly excited and the other mu-
sicians were wondering, open-mouthed.
I'VE haven't the music, said the leader,
well knowing Papa hatred for encores.
Il can play it, win play it'll" said the
cellist
Astonishment was on every face that
watched him as Weyrch picked up his bow
aud swept into the weird, fantastic melody
with power and rapt expression they had
never heard from him before. His fine eyes
wandered over the faces of the audience till
at last they paused, distended as he looked
into the face of woman Blue-eyed. yell
low-haired, smiling, beautiful, she was one
of those women about whose age men sell
dom stop to guess. Near her sat another,
not less comely, but overshadowed by the
splendid radiance of her companion.
As the musicians were locking up their in
struments the first young vioinist found
card on the floor, and read:
''Play the piece you played for me that
last night at Potsdam. CARLOTTA."
He thrust the scrawl into his pocket, and
as was his custom; hurried after Papa Wey-
rich. As the celfist reached the aisle the
blonde goddess came halfway to meet him
She put both hands in his, fixed him with
her luminous eyes, and leading him to
chair, sat near him.
80, Emil. you have not forgotten Pots
dam" she was saying, watching some old
familiar fire come back into his eyes.
Its not Potsdam, it's not the masic, it
is you | must remember always" be said.
And the young vioiniss waiting apart mar
veled at Papa's sudden air of buoyant gal
lantry.
"No, no, Emil" she laughed; "this is no
place for gallantries. Besides, you know,
we are no longer boy and girl Indeed, / al
most forgot that in my joy at seeing you aft
er all these years. | knew you the moment
l heard 'Traumerei and saw those curls of
yours. Really, Emil, you're as handsome
as ever!"
you seem more beautiful, Carlotta"
'Now III punish you,' she whispered,
playfully tapping his hand as she turned to
the younger woman, who, with their two
men companions, sat chatting at a nearby
table
Come here, Irene" she called And then
to the cellist:
Mr. Weyrich, this is my daughter Irene!'
The musician WINGED, turned pale and
stammered
Impossible - that is--er-pardon me,
miss. your mother seems too young to call
so mature a child her daughter"
The daughter hardly suppressed sheer
at his blunt gallantry. She did not under
stand or care about the gray pallor OF
bis face as he regarded her. But the moth
err saw and understood and enjoyed his con
fusion.
and now-auf wieder sehn," she was
laughing. But he stopped her with queer
gesture, calling the young violinist, who yet
waited across the aisle.
Before We separate, ladies, let me pres