The daily telegram. [volume] (Clarksburg, W. Va.) 1901-1926, 1905-10-17
Il VERY SID
MISE 0RlIIVE
IBy Il. n. EEouston.Y

4 "
The other day an old man viii
white hair and attractive, classit
face, stepped up on the platform Of
the Baltimore Ohio railroad sta
tion at CIarksbnrg. His appearance
was striking. Ills clothes were clean
but still there was about him evi-
denee of poverty and suffering. He
had little baggage, the only thing
that he carried in his hand being an
old violin. One possessing soIle
technical knowledge of the violin
could tell from the make, color.
model and especially the soft rich
tone, that this one was an unusually
fine instrument.
He did not go to the liquor saloon
to play nor find busy quarter in
the streets, but walked out into
somewhat retired spot where, If 1t
were possible that a. few people
should gather about him to hear his
music no one could complain of his
interrupting business nor of his be-
ING an occasion of annoyance to the
public. There, almost alone, with
Indication of rare skill, he played
some beautiful selections of classic
music: In few moments some ex-
tremely stupid and unappreclatlve
person informed him that musl-
clans were not allowed to play inside
the corporate limits of the town
Immediately the music was dlscon-
tinued, and the old man having re-
ceived a few coins into his tremb-
ling hands from passers by, though
he had made no effort to gather any
collection, slipped the violin under
his coat and walked away and out
of sight.
Later in the day few gentlemen
were standing at the corner of the
court house talking with deputy
sheriff of the county when the old
musician approached them and;
with every indication of modest and
unobtrusive purpose asked the
sheriff if he was an officer of the law.
Upon receiving an affirmative ans
wer. he asked again if it was against
the law of the town to play little
on his violin in any of the streets
that were not particularly occupied
with business. The sheriff replied
that he knew of no such exclusion
of music from the town and added
that he might play in such places
where an accumulation of listeners
would not become an obstruction to
the affairs of the town or an annoy
ance to any private citizen.
Some moments afterwards such
place had been found and there came
gra d,,allv into hearing the sweet
strains of Schuberts Serenade.
Moonlight Sonata and other fine
compositions of the masters that
made one forget the commonplace
occupations of the day, and mingled
an element of sweet delight with the
noises of the street.
In a few moments one of our Po-
lieemen went to him and told nm
that he must stop that music, be-
canse It was not allowed on the
streets of this town. The old man
stopped at once, and the little com
pany scattered and left him sitting
there alone with an expression OF
wounded feelings and disappolnt-
mcnt on the refined features of his
wrinl1led face. After some little
time of musing loneliness he iayeG
his violin down on the pavement and
lifting his foot he crushed it into
hundred pieces and left the rag
ments living on the ground. From
that moment nothing more has been
seen or heard of the. wandering
musician, and no one can give
word about his history or anything
Of the story of his ruined violin, the |
rich tones of which and perhaps the
long conpanionship between violin
and musician have been forever end
ed.