The Washington herald. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1906-1939, 1910-11-25

ecstatically, reeeded in the distance. and
finally was lost | took up the essays
and read for wkile. My head was much
better, and my soreness was slowly disap-
pearing. but the constrained positions
I had TO hold to keep my rib from pain
ing me made me too weary and impa-
tient to put my mind on my book.
could hardly wait for Miss Fielding 10
return. and lay inert, watching the flies
drift lazily through the sunshine that
filled the room, hoping that Leah, at
least, might come IN TO break my ennui.
welcomed even the hoarse, squeaky
cry OF Kings pump. the occasional crow
ing OF a rooster, the twittering Of birds
In the apple tree. and the many little
homely sounds of country life. The fra
grant perfume OF the roses in the room
was a blessed reminder OF Miss FIELD
ing's kindness.
In a half hour, / heard the dogs ap
preaching and she came into the room
again, hatless, bringing a new breath
OF June with her Tier hair was blown
to silky veil through which her eyes
shone and her rosy cheeks glowed as she
smiled at me over the footboard of my
bed Throwing off her little white boz
iero. a sauey thing with black velvet
collar and cuffs, she went 10 the mirror
and gathered up the loose strands OF
hair, tueking them In here and there.
with def touches OF her fingers. and
adjusting them with dark tortoise shell
pins. until her little head, eoiffed high.
was as smooth as d cats.
She came up 20 the bedside and was
quick TO notice by my nervous movements
that I was suffering. Sitting down she
began 10 tell gayly OF her walk over the
nd a4-a
Gained as II she had laid a finger on the
electric switch that controlled IT, Then
she suggested reading TO me. and took
up the volume of poems We had discussed.
Her voice was not quite intense enough
for strong emotion: II had not the mo-
mentum, so TO speak. to carry the lines
along with the swing and rhythm neces-
sary. It was too light for that, but IL
more than made up for 1t by its syTnpa-
thetic tenderness and the delleacy Of its
infection. Her tones lulled me, and /
fell asleep.
In the afternoon she brought her mend
ing. and we talked for a couple OF hours
or so, always keeping as she expressed
Il, "on the island" What personalities
we discussed. that Is had no reference
10 her history or her plans. She warned
me of very cleverly several times when
the talk approached her circumstances
or even her moods and tastes
when she confessed that she played a
little on the piano and violin. I positively
insisted upon my rights as an invalid 10
be amused. She rolled up her work and
west 20 get her violin without excuses or
apologies.
I waited with considerable anxiety 20
hear what and how she would play, not
,gs4
OF composers. She began In her own
room. and through the opened doors /
heard the strains OF the Prize Song play
ed with great yerye and sentiment !
was delighted She came, stu playing,
into my chamber her sleeves rolled up
(she said she could not play elsel and
accepted my compliments graciously and
simply. Then walking up and down, abb
sorbed. she gave NE fragments Of Cesar
Francks sonata for the violin and piano.
To watch her, supple. virile, rapt, 10 note
her clever, accomplished technique, her
passionate, free-armed command OF the
bowl have seldom seen such a splendid
attack or so sure and true a vibrato-was
a JOY beautifully associated with the
clarity and subtle craftsmanship OF the
master.
So she ran on, alternating her rendi-
tons with scraps OF talk that showed
keen musical sense and an appreciation
of the radical. nltra-modern movement
OF the time. Next she burst into
vibrant dramatic Polish folksong that
excited me like fire. And finally, as a
tour de force. her eyes dancing as she
watched me over her shoulder with some
new audacious devil in her smile, she
enchanted me with a vivid piece most
astOnishingly enlivened with fiights OF
technique-Uills, brilliant chord passsg es,
and runs with the upward and downward
"staccatO bow" Then she threw down
her fiddle and came Up 20 me, laughing.
That evening she had another delight
for me. coming 10 my bedside and read
ing Villon and Verlaine In the original
translating the cid French for me when
was perplexed by the argot. And for
the picture ] need only add that Leah
was of the circle, and made her own
comments.