The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1920-03-09
Screen Version Nopeiized
BY Jane Mclean.

an old instrument that had long
lain under the counter hidden from
the curiosity of prying eyes.
Leon took his place at the table
before the cake with the seven
candles lighted in his honor; the
clamor began anew; each helped
himself; every one wrangled and
Mrs. Kantor. beaming, came back
with a rusty old instrument and a
bow a good deal the worse for
wear.
Leon Kantor went to bed that
night on the cot he shared with
his father and dreamed or violins-
he even woke and felt under the
cot to make sure his treasure was
where he had left IL. and then he
dreamed some more-he was play
ing to a little girl with big eyes
who held a cat under a shawl and
there was a great light shining all
about them.
This may have been translated
to his subconscious brain by the
flicker of the candle his mother
held above him looking down at hts
closed eyes and his peaceful face
as though she saw therein visions
OF triumphant plaudits and sue
cesses.
Abraham woke and grumbled:
Go to bed: why you make this
fuss over nothing?"
Mrs. Kantor stole away: the
faith OF the mother was in her
heart she felt great days ahead
and her face took on the reflection
OF her exalted dreams.
There IL nothing poetic about
the atmosphere OF Allen street; in
the early gray morning to stir the
imagination: rather IL presents
prosa!c homily, whose essence Is
work. There are none of the pic
turesque toiiers who wan Ter
through the streets of Montmarte
with their wares and their cries.
Instead, a tumble of sounds. the
rattle of pushcart wheels. the noise
of bottles on fire escapes, of men
calling rau.1usly, of elevated trains.
of children who cannot sleep, OF
recrimations and bargainings.
The impartial sun filtered
through an alley shone in the eyes
of little Leon Kantor and stirred
him. He woke, made a hasty mo-
ton for his violin. and cautiously
sitting up in bed held the instru-
ment to his breast and began to
draw the bow over the strings.
The first note reused his father
who sat bolt upright: the boy paid
no heed, and the man starting to
speak stopped himself. There was
rapt look on the child's face, and
the sounds that came forth from
the battered wooden shell Gained
with their sweetness and held him
speechless.
Perhaps the mother was right
he osf ~
scended on this son OF his-he felt
elated, suddenly lifted up-fesh of
his flesh and bone of his bone-this
boy at seven playing with never a
lesson-such music.
He stepped out of bed sideways,
as though fearing, and made his
way to the back of the crowded
room, and there, her eyes flooded
with tears, he took the hand of the
mother. and they stood together.
breathless, visualizing, the one the
fulfilment of dreams, the other the
fulfilment of hope.
Did they imagine it. or were the
noises outside suddenly stilled.
Leon Kantor laid down the violin
and sat looking at it as though IL
contained a repertoire Of wonderful
airs. His mother was sobbing in
the arms OF his father. His broth
ers and sister, Weakened, gazed at
him with apprehension.
"You should not be feeling bad
said Abrahm, patting his. wife's
shoulder.
Me-" she raised her face. all
smiles, with traces of tears on her
cheeks. and she spread out her arms
as though to signify that the world
pnu IN npep before them
Abrahm understood; he ap-
preached his son with awe: Leon,
you go with me and we buy the real
violin, eh?"
Mr.. Kantor having heard with his
own ears had suddenly become a
convert to the financial possibilities
Of UeDius