Daily press. [volume] (Newport News, Va.) 1896-current, 1909-09-22
The Violin
By NJ. p. w'Eeoeis

ished table and plaque-adorned walls.
Marie Labarthe flung up her hands
and let them fall hopelessly at her
sides. She hated the trimness OF the
dat, the furniture OF which he had
so proudly chosen two years ago.
Yet across the tiny ball. under red
duvet. lay baby Maurice. taking his
morning nap with forefinger tucked
In his mouth. What did that matter
when at the far corner Of the salon
lay the cause OF the trouble-tbe vlo-
lin. SO tenderly packed In its case?
Marie was q housebred woman; but
In her rage she crossed the room with
the step Of a prairie wolf. and. un.
clasping the case. flung II open. IL
was tho work Of a moment to snatch
up q penknife and hack the strings
OF the hated thing; that had taken her
place In her husbands thoughts.
Night after night ne came back
from his Office to this. instead OF 70
her. There were no Sunday trips now;
no flowers, no boxes of chocolate. no
love q la Menier, as he used to call II.
Half an hour later the front door
closed on an elegant woman IN black
and orange, with q veil tied as they
| tie them across the ChenDel-to raw
ish hearts The lady carried violin
case. and walked fierceiy. like a grande
dame In a passion.
Pictures OF the future came where
the dismal pictures OF the past had
been. She would go back TO the life
she had left for husbapd-to her
painting, to her student friends. For
jacques and Maurice she had toilcd
and shaved. Now she was free-and.
hacked and mutilated, down the Seine
should go the fiddle.
Artist as she was, she instinctively
sough. rest In the garnered beauty
| OF the past; for in picture galleries
one could rest and get courage--for
the nights work.
Cold and shivering at last. she
walked between the trees Of the Lux
embourg gardens. where the faurs
! peeped at her from their pedestals.
They. like the Norma Lisa. could mock
and torture. heartless In the perfec-
! ton of their strength.
| In the warm rooms OF the Luxem-
bourg she sank with half sob on a
| cushioned seat She had taken moth
ing but q little soup all day and physi-
! cal fatigue was racking her. Jacques
would soon be coming back TO the
J fat now--to the child, to the warmth
! % ha <xf ~.
/ fee. He would miss II: her lips curled
under her veil as her hands clasped
and unclasped above the violin case.
He would care for the loss OF that.
Then her eye caught the great mod
ern incarnation of passion. the Baiser
of Rodin. She understood; but II
seemed merely like a horrible chasm
that opened before her feet. and she
rose to leave this last shelter.
Opposite to her. as she raised her
eyes was a bronze group-a man and
| woman OF no large. lovely life,
these two, far removed from human
! pain. but fll-clad. lifted. bowed with
toll and grief. they still chung to one
another in the sorrow OF common
loss borne together.
As she gazed they seemed to
breathe. And Marie understood: for
even the babe at the breast Of the
bronze figure could not make the
mother forget the other child she
had lost
II was lie Peuple Pleure. the most
wonderful modern statue Of the pity
of the sorrowful earth. AS Nine. La
barthe seemed to see the child move
its tiny hand a panic descended on
her. For baby Maurice had been alone
without her all the long hours OF this
miserable day.
Il was quite dark In the hall. and
from the salon came the sound OF a
childs sobe and a mans voice soofh-
ing the babe Intellectually. She pushed
open the door, and her husband turned
from the red glow Of the stove with
Maurice In his arms.
Give him TO me-" she cried, push
ing up her veil and holding out her
arms. To the cool freshness of the
outdoor air on her face the child held
M his hot lips, and. cuddling his feet In
her hands. she comforted him. Moth
ing hurt now. not even the nutilated
violin. She nodded CURLY toward the
case and said. open II and look. J
did that. And I'm not sorry. You
starved me. You cared for nothing
but II. was an artist once; and
that's why ! understand how It had
taken my place with you hated It.
why DID you come back7"
To get Maurice she said "He
cried for me. He Is quiet now. He
wants me-" She vas blindiy making
her way to the door.
so do L. said he. husband quietly.