The Ellensburg dawn. [volume] (Ellensburg, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1902-08-02
THE ELLENSBURG BAND.
by UNCLE WILLIAM.

human race ever onward and upward,
and we dream on higher plains OF life
when under its power.
A few evenings ago at the new grano
stand heard the Ellensburg band give
an open-air concert. The streets and
sidewalks we're thronged with youth
and beauty, old age and maiden 10
me the music breathed thoughts In
language sweeter than | had ever
heard uttered by human tongue, and l
was mesmerised, and l thought l fell
asleep and was rapt into the realms OF
visions and dreams. heard the rustic
OF thousand joyous wings, and burst
of song from thousand joyous throats,
and the boys were angling for the
finny tribe in the laugh waters OF the
"high-line ditch, (which has just been
completed. | heard the music OF the
carpenters hammer and 10. new side
walks were going down all over Eli
ensburg and the public school building
was being repaired and painted, and
Prof Cramer now sounded the hunters
horn and the deep-mouthed pack OF
blood hounds of Tom Maxey opened
low and wild far in the ringing woods
but Tracy was not there-and their
music was like hundred Ginning
bells. There was a tremor OF the cor
net and heard a flute play. | heard
the mirthful babble Of happy voices
and peels of laughter ringing in the
swelling tide OF pleasure. Then l
thought was in Ramsey's hall, and
saw a vision of snowy arms, voluptuous
forms and light fantastic slippered feet,
all whirling and floating in the mazes
of the misty dance, and l said in my
heart surely the world is better today
than ever before, and l thought the
refinements OF modern society, its ele-
CANT accomplishments its intellectual
culture, and it's conceptions OF the
beautiful were glorious evidences OF
our advancement toward higher plane
of being. For moment the music hush
ed; wind quit blowing; dead-beats and
gamblers gone: saloons closed; Sunday
ball games off, and l thought Ellens-
qurg the best and fairest little city in
all the land.
The flying fingers now quivered upon
the trembling notes like fairy feet
dancing on the nodding violets, and
the music glided into still sweeter
strain, rang wedding bells and told
story of human life. Two lovers strOlled
arm in arm down by the river side,
and there the old, old story, so old and
vet SO new, was told over and over
again. All, those downward dropping
eyes, that mantling blush, that trem-
bling hand in meek submission pressed,
that heaving breast, that fiuttering
heart, that whispered "Yes'-wherein
a heaven lies-how vel, they told OF
victory won and paradise regained.
The music laughed like child and
my dream changed again.
l saw snug little cottage and a
curly-head toddled at the door. | saw
happy husband and father return
from his labors in the evening and kiss
his happy wife and frolic with his baby.
The purple glow now faded from the
western skies; the flowers closed their
petals in the dewy slumbers of the
night; every wing was folded in the
bower; every voice was hushed: the full
orbed moon poured silver from the
east, and Gods eternal jewels flashed
on the brow of night. The scene chang
ed again, while the band played, and at
mdnight's holy hour, in the light OF a
lamp dimly burning. clad in his long,
white mother-hubbard, | saw the dis
consulate victims OF loves young dream
nervously walking the floor in his Dos
ON an aching heart, in his arms the
squalling baby.
1t was the battle with King collie.
But this ancient invader of the Empire
of Babphood finally sounded precipi-
tate retreat: the curly head had fallen
over on the paternal shoulder: the tear
stained little face was almost calm in
repose, when down went a naked heel
square on an invented tack. Over
went the wOrk-tab BILE: down came work
basket, scissors and all: up went the
heel with the tack sticking in it, the
hero of that river side stroll, with yell
like an Indian warhoop, and his moth
er-hubbard now floating at half-mast,
hoped in agony to lounge in the
rear. There was weeping and gnash-
ing of teeth there an angry shake OF
the screaming baby, which be had
awakened again. Then heard an ex-
plosion of wrath from the warm blank
cts of the conjugal couch, eloquent
with the music of chow dare you shake
my baby like that? III tell pa to-mor.
row. which Instantly brought the
trained husband into line again.
The music now eddied into mourn.
full tone: another year had interviewed
a little coffin sat by an empty cradle