The Washington herald., 1920-09-09

cal instruments from a pipe-or-
gan to a cOrn-stalk fiddle There
amt a man lives. sir. that can
tell me any news about any in
strument that has to be pound
ed. blowed. scraped, grinded,
picked. or wound with a key
You get me what you like.
dad says Marilla. who couldn't
keep her feet on the floor for JOY.
OF course you know what to Sc
lect. I'd just as lief it was
piano or a organ or what
- see in St. Louis once what
they call orchestrion,' says
Uncle Cal. that 1 judged was
about the finest thing in the way
Of music ever invented. But
there amt room in this house for
one. Anyway. / imagine they
cost a thousand dollars. l reckon
something in the piano line would
SUIT Marilla the best. She took
lessons in that respect for two
years over at BirdstaiI. I wouldn't
trust the buying Of an instrument
to anybody else but myself. |
reckon if I hadn't took up sheep
raising I'd have been one of the
organ manufacturers in the
world.
That was Uncle Cars style. But
] never lost any patience with
him. on account of his thinking
so much of Marilla. And she
thought just as much Of him. He
sent her to the academy over at
Birdstail for two years when it
took nearly every pound of wool
to pay the expenses.
Along about Tuesday Uncle
Cal put out for san Antoine on
the last wagon load of wool. Ma
rillas Uncle Ben. who lived in
Birdstail. come over and stayed
at the ranch while Uncle Cal was
gone.
1t was ninety miles to San An
tone and forty to the nearest
railroad station. so Uncle Cal was
gone about four days. l was over
at the Double Elm when he came
rolling back one evening about
sundOwn. And up there in the
wagon, sure enough, was a piano
or Organ-we couldn't tell
WHITEHALL wrapped up in wool
sacks. with agon-sheet tied
over it in case/of rain. And out
skips MarillaI hollerinG, oh, OH
with her eyes shining and her
hair a-fiyin 'Dad-dad.' she
sings out, have you brought it
have you brought it?'-and it
right there before her eyes, as
women will do.
Finest piano in San Antoine
says Un'ie Cal, waving his hand,
proud. Genuine rosewood, and the
finest, loudest tone you ever list
ened to. l heard the storekeeper
play it, and I took it on the spot
and paid cash down
Me and Ben and Uncle Cal and
a Mexican lifted it out of the
wagon and carried it in the house
and set it in a corner. 1t was
one Of .hem upright instruments,
and not very heavy or very big.
And then all of a sudden Uncle
Cal tiops over and says he's
mighty sick He's got a high
fever, and he complains of his
lungs. He gets into bed. while
me and Ben goes out to unhitch
and put the horses in the pasture,
and Martha fieY around to get
Uncle Cal something not 20 drink.
But first she puts both arms on
that piano and hugs it with a
soft kind of a smile. like you see
kids doing viii their Christmas
toys.
when came in from the pas
ture, Marilla was in the room
where the liano was. I could
see by the strings and woolsacks
on the floor that she had had it
unwrapped. But now sne was
tying the wagon-sheet over 1t
again. and there was a kind Of
solemn, whitish look on her face.
Amt wrapping up the music
again, are you. Marilla" I asks.
What's the matter with tust a
couple of tunes for 10 sae how she
goes under the saddle?
Not tonight. Rush saws she.
don't want 70 play any tonight.
Dads too sick. Just think, Rush,
ne paid three hundred dollars for
lt-nearly n tutrd of what the
wool-clip brought"
Well, it amt anyways in the
neighborhood Of third of what
you are worth. I told her. And
don't think Uncle Cal is too sick
TO hear a little agitation Of the
piano Keys jus: 10 christen the
machine
Not tonight. Rush, says Ma
rllla, IN a way that she mad when
she wanted to settle things.
Bur 1t seems that Uncle Cal
was plenty sick. after all. He got
so bad that Ben saddled up and
rode over to Birdstail for Toe
SlmpSon 1 sfauad arnnnd l.