The Washburn leader., 1916-01-28
THE SINGING TEACHER
BY LOUISE OLIVER.

But their wholesome respect for her
put metal into her purpose and fight
ing blood into her veins.
There was one man in the room who
puzzled Viola. He went by the name
of Joe Brown. One thing she OWNED
instantly-he was gentleman; in
fact, he had the manners of an aris-
tocrat. But the thing that drew her
to him from the first was his wonder
full voice. For Viola insisted upon hav-
ing singing. For fifteen minutes every
evening the halls Of the old building
reverberated with the echoes of mas.
culine voices.
And Joe Brown led them all. His
voice was clear and deep and full
of passionate appeal that gripped the
heart of the little teacher.
One evening she called him to her.
Joe, know you are not an Ameri-
can. Won't you sing song for US
in your own language? You have a
wonderful voice."
Joe flushed happily and bowed low.
with the most pleasure, Miss North
cott." He spoke slowly, picking his
words with care, but he seldom made
a grammatical error and was fast
overcoming his foreign accent. Il
am German"
Joe Brown sang and it was so won
derful-the mellowness and richness
Of his voice. the feeling with which
he sang, and as Violas quick ear
noted, the wonderful training he
showed-that for some time after he
had finished no one stirred.
Behind the tears in his pretty
teachers eyes was look of interest
that had never been there before.
The school did famously. Viola
worked hard with her class and daily
the lessons became less irksome and
more interesting. Then there was an
innovation to which the pupils looked
forward eagerly, for every evening
Joe sang for them.
One night after the class was dis
missed, Viola opened the street door
to go home. Suddenly gust of wind
dashed fine sleet into her face and
the wind tried to lift her of her feet.
Then q man stepped out Of the
shadow.
May I 60 home with you, Miss
Northcott? It is bad night"
Viola laid hand gratefully upon
his proffered arm. eyes, indeed, Joe.
1t was good of you to wait"
After that there was little chance
for them to talk. The storm increased
in violence, and, even with her es-
cort's help. it was all she could do
to keep her feet. When at last they
reached her door she insisted upon
him going in. You must come in and
wait, Joe. No one can live in that
blizzard. I'm going to call mother to
hear you sing. You don't mind, do
you? I will play your accompani-
ments."
So Joe stayed and sang so wonder
fully that both Viola and her mother
were thrilled.
Then Viola told him of her own
ambition-how she had stopped her
musical education for lack of money
to go further, and her determination
to work day and night until she had
enough money to have lessons Of the
wonderful Max Won Deerhof
MAX Won Deerhof!" he cried.
'Yes! Do you know him?"
VERY, very we'll, Miss Northcott. I
was thinking how happy he would be
to have you for pupil"
II WONDER" he went on, turning to
her mother, III I may give Miss
Northcott some lessons on Saturday
II she can spare me q little time. I
teach music myself"
So Viola's Saturday lessons began.
and she soon discovered that her
teacher was a marvel. Under his guild.
ance her voice expanded and became
exquisitely beautiful. The cold weeks
few and April came. The days Of
night school were numbered.
The last night 1t was raining, q
drenching April shower. When Viola
appeared in the doorway Joe was
waiting to take her home.
Miss Northcott." he began almost
Immediately when he had suited his
step to hers, you aren't my teacher
any longer. but with your consent I'll
remain yours. Its time, too, that was
telling you my right name. / am Max
Won Deerhof, or do you know it al
ready?"
Viola was silent. too amazed for
speech.
He went on. II know what you are
thinking, wondering rather. Well, 1
win tell you. could not learn Eng;
lish we'll. had teachers by the
dozen. No good! Then someone said:
DO like the others. Go to good
night school. They viii make you
learnt So made my name into Joe
Brown, and Joe Brown is 90 grateful
to his teacher he is going to keep on
giving her lessons forever II he may =
Il hardly know what to say. Mr..
Won Deerhof," faftered Viola. ''You
have done something for me can
never repay"
Maybe some day you'll find that
tf