Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1902-11-01
in HARNESS.

Inc IRE hdd burned low and red in the
crate.
The door closed softly behind the last
pupil OF the afternoon, and the old mas
ter drew chair besiue the diving embers.
holding out his hands to the warmth.
He was very tired, more tired than he
ever remembered to have been in his life
before. His white head sank forward
little as though the effort of holding it
up was too great.
Tn the table, at his elbow, lay his vic
I'm; his eyes fell upon it, and he smiled
then pulled himself up and lifted it gent
~ from its place. His hands passed over
1T lovingly, as if it We're a living thing.
he drew the bow tendeily across the
strings, and wailng melody filled tie
lttie room. Then he laid the instrument
down tkon his knee and sighed heavily.
He was old-a long day of teaching
told upon him. he felt tired, so tired
His fingers fe'l softly upon the strings
OF his violin again, and again he smiled.
Better after all to work to the end"
he said aloud, better to wear out than
to be eaten out with rust! When the
time eomes-let me die-in harness.
lie leaned back in his chair. looking
drealnily into the dull red of the slowly
dying fire, and, looking, his thoughts
wandered away to old days, old faces.
Tar away memories.
Was 1T memory of long ago? On was
1t only yesterday after all? He was a
brownie faced boy again, trying to bring
out OF the cheap fiddle bought in the vii.
lage shop same of the melodies that
echoed. and re-echoed in his brain. He
FaIo in ba l.,
tage, because his mother grumbled over
the noise ne made Was it yesterday, Or.
was it sixty long years ago that the
great maestro had heard him playing, up
amongst the fragrant pine woods, and
had brought him away-away--
A coal dropped into the CRATE. the old
man started. He glanced round the bare
little room and shivered-there was no
scent of the pines here after all. and he
was an old mainland tired!
Again his fingers touched the violin.
Their touch was a caress.
so" he murmured, ''thev gave me
this-they gave me this-when-I was
great" He lifted his head. high. sh ,ne
in his tired old eyes. He no longer sat
beside dying fire, he faced a shouting
multitude, who stood up as one man to
call his name. Was it the-the lights
that dazzled him? Or-or the shouts
that dazed his brain? He passed his
band YEARLY over his brow.
And now-I am an old man-and
tired" he whispered, butt shall work
to the end-for love of the work.
He lifted the violin and swept the
strings with the bow. The strange wall
ing melody floated out of the room and
down the stairs.
The caretaker waited to shut up the
music school; the weird beauty of the
sounds made her SILVER
Pore old gentleman she said. "'e's A.
playin' all to 'isself. Thinks e's a.play-
in at concert agin.'"
Upstairs the old man played on soft
~. There was magic even now in his
touch. His dim eyes frightened as he
played. Now it was Il love song whose
sweetness filled the room-his wife's face
looked out at him from the shadows, he |
felt the touch of her hand on his hair !
so You have come back" he whis- |
pered. Il thought thought-you were
dead. sweetheart but that must have
been dreana, and you aTeA-here. 1t is !
good to see your face"
Then his fingers slipped from the notes |
VI tuc NV sung, 10 pay HJIic tripping |
dance tune. He laughed softly.
See how the children dance" he said |
my boys and girls; they would like to |
dance all night, and + am never tired of |
playing for them. Tired? Not T." He |
laughed once more--his laugh echoed |
strangely in that bare place.
All at once the tune changed again. |
lie played a Polish melody that tore ut |
Nj
eyes, and then, with another swift |
transition, the stately rhythm of some |
grand old chorale filled the room.
The first tune | ever learnt--M Macs |
tro," he murmured,. 1.-The tirst-I-ever |
found me--and took-me The wind
sings-in the trees-and the sun sets
red behind" His voice grew drowsy, |
hand still grasped it tenuerly. 1.-THE wind |
-sings-and the river-sings-in my
ears. Coming notwithstanding" His
from the fire, the room was very still, so
still that the caretaker who had crept |
upstairs to listen to those magic melo-
dies, pushed open the door
The deathly stiffness and the dim light
made her shiver. She moved softly to
the old mans side. His bent white head
lay back against the chair--his eyes were
closed. The bow had dropped from his
fingers. but his hand still held the violin
in close clasp, and there was smile
on his face.
The old master had tied-in harness.
New York News.