The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1904-01-08

vi all the rough lille around nlln, Iuere
was only one gentle influence to keep
his heart from breaking. The fair,
blue.eyed girl, with hair like floss silk,
alone understood him when he talked
of the books he borrowed from the
minister and eagerly perused. Daisy
alone kept him from utter loneliness.
So these young hearts, in eleven
long years, learned the story of mutual
truth, mutual dependence, sympathy,
tenderness which we call love.
On the day when Reuben was twen-
ty-one he told Uncle Josiah he loved
Daisy and Uncle Josiah sadly shook
his head.
"You'lI never be able to keep wife,
Reuben,' he said. "Nevel! l love
Daisy too we'll to trust her to you.
Why, look at it, lad; you've never
earned full days wages since you
came to the farm. If you'd give up
yoar foolish fidd'ing, now, you might
make something of yourself; but as
long as your heart is in that saving
and scraping you'll be good for moth
ing else. It's my advice to you to
smash the fiddle over the first rock,
and then Ill talk to you about Daisy"
Break his violl! Destroy his dear
est friend, his comforter! But for
Daisy? What would he not do for
Daisy?
Perhaps Uncle Josiah was right.
Perhaps, if be had no outlet for the
dreams that filled bis soul they would
conquer the mazy-routine of farm
drudgery that was such heart-break-
ing problem to him. Perhaps, when
all the phantoms that broke into real
ity upon his violin were driven away,
he would be the practical farmer to
whom Uncle Josiah would give Daisy.
Musing thus, very sorrowfully, Reu-
ben took the violin from its case and
went to the woods, to an opening the
country folks called the fairy ring.
Here he sat upon huge stone and
played his farewell-a dlrge Of hope.
Great tears fell over his pale cheeks
as the weird, melancholy strain echoed
through the space around him. Then
he wrapped the violin once, twice, in
his arms, kissed it ,enderly, and lifted
it high in the air to smash it on the
rock. But his heart failed him. His
arm dropped nerveless at his side, and
be stood motonless, looking at his
fathers legacy.
Suddenly there stepped into the
opening an elderly man, gray-haired
and dark-eyed and dressed in the city.
cut attire.
$50 you would smash your violin?'
be said. You had better sell it, or,
better still, play on it. Was it you l
heard playing as l came through the
wood?'
"Yes. l was bidding my violin
farewell"
Him! Play again for me-
Gladly Reuben lifted his violin and
drew the bow across it.
IL will play you the Carnival of
the Birds,'" he said.
And there rose upon the air such
twittering chorus, here a saucy trill,
there busy chirp, then roulade, till
the very air seemed alive with song
sters, while under all sweet melody
throbbed and melted into softest
strains.
This is the Brooks Hymn" Reu-
ben said; and the ripping stream was
mocke d and echoed in faint, fantastic
music.
"Who wrote thes,?' the stranger
asked.
''They were never written. They
came from the heart," was the quiet
reply. Il will play you some written
music"
Again the violin obeyed tue bow, as
the works Reuben had studied from
his fathers music rose upon the sum
mer air.
And you were about to break your
violin?' the stranger said.
"Yes, for | never can be a farmer
while my brain is full Of music" was
the sad reply.
"AL! You want to be a farmer,
then? Would you not rather be a
musician?'
Reuben's eyes glistened. Long he
and the stranger talked, and the sun
was setting when he turned his face
homeward
"Uncle JOSIAH he said, when all
the chores were done and the farmer
rested on the moonlit porch, "if in a
year can bring you proof that can
support Daisy, will you give her to