Norwich bulletin., 1915-06-10

ed of her She was playing a mad ragtime melody, when suddenly and without warning he right arm sank to her side and remained powerless loans heart fairly stopped beating. She looked down at her hanging, nerveless arm. With her other hand she lifted and began to rub it. She was horribly frightened.
 see why she had stopped playing. She had never known before how much noise the piano made. It was so still now that one seemed to hear the characters in the picture upon the screen. She looked up at them with scared eyes and then toward the man as if for help. Then she dropped un- conscious.
 She had been carried out into the vestfbule, she found, when she opened her eyes. There was fresh air. Two or three strange faces were in the background, but the mans face and that of his mother were near. The old woman was holding a handker- chief wet with camphor to loans face.
 T always carry bottle of camphor in my handbag. in case I should be faint" she was explaining to the man who took tickets.
 The man who took tickets owned the show. He looked at Joan with hard eyes. Don't you know that you've no business to come here when you ain't fit?" he demanded. Such a performance as this is enough to start a panic"
 That will do," said Joan's man for fainting away"
 T should say not" agreed the little woman emphatically. She smoothed Joan's hair. ''TelI me, dear, was 1t the bad air?"
 Joan looked up at her meekly NO 1t was my arm. It dropped down. and l couldn't move it again. IT was frightened"
 'Overwork," said the man. Mother, this is case for the doctor. Let's take her to one at once."
 There was a doctors office across the street. and they went there. And there Joan learned that 1t would be months before she played again-that is, if she was lucky and ever played again at all. She turned so white at this cruel news that the old lady put an arm about her quickly.
 Never mind, dear,' she soothed. Tt will come right, I know. But you'll have to rest awhile" Mother and son accompanied Joan | home to the flat where father was told how she came to be playing at | the Lyric; and they told her that their name was Maclise, and that l Jack, the son, was a machinist, and IndI ne IlVeQ at nome with ms mOtn- 1 CT. who he thought the world of | though this last was not necessary | for Joan could see that, of course. The strength came slowly back to 1 the overused arm. and presently Joan could do all her housework as former | ly. And if she had not missed the money so much she would have been glad that she did not have to spend her evenings at the Lyric. Mrs. Mac lise was very kind to her. And Jack was kind, too-so kind that Joan grew pretty and rosy with hope and l joy.
 One night he took her and his mother to the yric to see the pie l lures. They sat in the old place 1 There was a man at the piano who | made a great deal of noise playing. l Joan looked at Jack smiling Did my playing sound like that?" she asked gayly.
 He shook his head. "No, yours was of a different quality And do you know that's what attracted me tc | you? I used to sit and watch you l till I was ashamed of myself and l wondered how you got there l planned all sorts of ways of making | myself known to you. And then fate l stepped in. Some day, you'll be able to play again, dear. but you'll only | play for me-
 And in the darkness he found he1 hand and held it fast.-Philadelph Bulletin.