Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1903-06-26


composedly This is England. you
know, and there are policemen outsider
If there were not
If there were not you would tie me in
to a chair and starve me into submits
sion. as you did when We were in St
Petersburg. Maestro, If you speak so
loud you will be too hoarse to sing Y
await unrio de Thessalie' tonight"
The mpresaro choked, and moderat-
ed his tone a little.
You have the whphand of me now
Godfrith; but wat-but wait till | have
you under my hand again. COrpo d
cane! | will make you pay for this"
"Of course you will, maestro" God
firth said. cooly, and you may; but
today | will be master of my own hands
So | will come, Mr.. Hoffman,. if you
will wait two seconds"
He left the room, and returned Instant
ly with a plaid thrown over his narrow
STOPPING shoulders and his violin case
under his arm.
Come" he went on, with an impish
laugh and a glance at the impresario,
scoWling in his easy chair; the maestro
will recover when we are gone. Do you
live here. Mr.. Hoffman, Godfrith asked
as they emerged into the sunlit street.
quite close" Ernest Hoffman said
CURLY. as they left the highboard and
turned down narrow Savage-street. Cod
firth Ak gave glance up at the dreary
demure houses right and left and laugh
ed quietly to himself.
Eden in tatters for somebody | sup
pose. DO you live here. Mr. Hoff-
mann as Ernest pushed open the door
of No 80 Have you any other chill
dren?'
No Ernest Hoffman, said as he
preceded the little fiddler up the creak-
ing stairs; only this one-and his moth
er is a cripple. This way. Clara he
is here Dark blue eyes met the dark
gray in a long, nquiring glance; then
a thin hand. soft and white and cold
went out to clasp the little fiddlers thin
hot fingers. and a soft voice said
ION, 1t is good of you to come-so
good. Ernest told you how i'll our boy
was and how he onged to hear you play
again? And your playing is a marvel.
How do you? Why"-She withdrew her
hand with little cry. You are not
child al all and l thought
NO, l am not child the little fiddler
said, looking at her puzzled face with
clear. candid eyes. Il am seventeen
Yes"-with shrug-"I am child in
size. l know stopped growing when
l was nine
Are you a gypsy? forgive me- Clara
said, with a pretty blush. but it has
been said so-and l wondered if it was
true"
Il am of gypsy blood on one side, mad
am Godfrith Ak answered-"the moth
ers."
Il am afraid" Clara said. as he opened
the violin case and took the instrument
out. handling it lovingly, you ought not
TO have come out in this east wind
You have been i'll, surely"
No" Godfrith said quietly. Il am
never strong. madame. But am
never ill., either Shall l begin to play
In the next room-through that open
door if you will be kind Ernest"
as her husband made if he would follow
the little fiddler to his boys bedside
let them be alone together, dear. Our
guest will like it better, | know. Madge
would say l am absurdly fanciful, dear"
as he came to her side with a surprised
face. But l feel as if you had brought
here good fairy who will cure our
Uric, and-what is that he is playing?"
..t 4 e. song. madame Godfrith an
swered himself. through the open door
way. 1T is a Norwegian lullaby" The lul-
lahr crponed softly away into silence and
then Clara from her couch saw the little
fiddler bend swiftly over the bed and kiss
her boys flushed, delighted face with
~ 'r'n lrcd. SO; this better than
the Albert Hall"
Then he took up his bow again and
drew it over the strings in a swift, dainty
dance measure. all light airy passages.
through which Clara could almost hear
the movement of dancing feet. She listen
ed Tor few minutes with IA half smile on
her lips then her eyes. puzzled and half
afraid. went wistfully to meet the little
tiddlers. and came back to her husband 5
face with an unsatisied fear in their
blue depths. Ernest do / know the
song? II seems so-and I wish almost
Il wish he would not play it,
MADAME | am ha waN thrOupb I
must go on to the bitter end now the
little fiddler called to her, with "A tremble
of laughter in his voice. Il shall soon
have done"
Il don't like it," Clara murmured dis
tressfully Il seem to know it, and
She lay listening in silence for some
minutes, then the fear in her eyes kindl-
ed into flame, and she caught at her
husbands hand with the look of a ter
rifed child.
Ernest, l remember; it is the Dance
of Death that the Bohemian gypsies
play. Stop him"
My dear Clara''-Her terror made
even unimaginatve Ernest Hoffman,
turn pale, and he turned yet paler when
the music stopped in the middle of an
airy dance movement.
"On the 26th inst, suddenly, of
heart disease, Godfrith Ak. violinist."
That was what the third paragraph of
The Telegraph" said; but Clara Hoff-
mann, sobbing over the newspaper cut
ting, cried: Il told you l knew that
dance-and the gypses say that death
always comes to player or hearer-one
or the other. But one of the two can
choose which it shall kill or cure, so they
say. And, look, dear; l am sure that
Godfrith Ak knew the legend and that
he chose it should be Uric who should
be healed | know it," And her hus-
band did not say her nay.-[Nora Hopper
in Black and White.