Ellsworth American., 1922-05-31
SILVIA DREAMS
BY AGNES GRAHAM BROGAN


shed where shabby sweaters and faded
hats of men who worked, hung, neal
by. This outer kitchen was place
where Silvia pared potatoes in sum
mer time-and dreamed her dreams
Silvia was not child; stored in her
quiet head were wise PHILOSOPHERS and
happy beliefs. These beliefs she in
tended by faith and effort to bring
true. But the summer boarders who
1Ocked yearly to Mrs. Haskins' CHEEKY
home were unaware OF Silvia's wis
dom; her dreams had long been u
source Of general amusement. Mrs
Haskins, good natured and indulgeni
loved to enlarge upon Silvia's visions
"She sure is an odd piece" Mrs
.Haskins would say, land has been
ever since took her out of the orphan
age, six years ago. She was fourteen
then, and land knows why l fancied
that she'd be help to me, but did
And Silvia is great help with all
her notions; that's the strange part.
They called her Ann, there, for want
of true name, but as soon as Miss
Ann comes here she looks at me de-
cided, out of her big black eyes and
says: From now on, Mrs. Haskins, l
am Silvia. always did want pretty
name, and guess I've as good right
to choose it as the asylum. Silvia is
the kind of name my mother would
have chosen"
What" asked boarder, "did the
child know of. her motherY "Noth-
ing" Mrs. Haskins replied, except
what they told us at the institution.
Silvia had been rescued when baby
from deserted tenement room, where
her young dead father lay with his
cold hand on her tiny warm body.
Silvia's mother had died in the same
room at the childs birth. The two
young people had come there just be-
fore, and no one knew thing about
them-except, that the man played Il
violin.
'Then," asked a sympathetic young
woman, "that is her fathers violin,
which Silvia keeps in the shedY"
"Bless you mol" laughed Mrs. Has
kins. "her fathers violin was taken
for debt. The one Silvia has, was
premium offered by grocery concern.
do you think" asked the interest
ed young woman, that Silvia would
play for US? After the dinner dishes
are out of the way, l meanY II am
sure" responded the smiling hostess,
that she would not. Silvia goes far
into the wood to play her music"
"She is then a queer little thing"
agreed the guest
Tears filled the elder woman's eyes.
"And dear little thing too," she said.
Silvia slipped down from the stool
where she had been polishing kitchen
faucets, then from beneath a farm
workers hanging green sweater, she
drew her violin; and far in the wood
where shadows were deepest, she
raised it lovingly to her chin.
A man in cabin flung his book
quickly aside, and Fastening through
the doorway came nOiselesSly toward
the player Close to her he halted,
his eyes filed with wonder; breath
lessly he listened. And then, as the
last bird note echoed and echoed still
again softly across the strings of Sill
Was violin, the man faced her. She
gazed startled. II thought no one
was near" she reproved him. Are
you so selfish with your musicY' he
asked
The dark eyes were suddenly alight.
rs it then, music'?" she asked eager
ly, "real-music? And do you under
stand?"
The man sat down beside her
~ understand music so well" he re-
piled, that l am out here in the
woods nursing the disappointment of
failure. For you see-1 realize that
all the skill l have will not compen-
safe for lack of-genius. Your mu-
sic is genius"
Silvia looked down at him sorrow
fully.
"Without Skill" she said.
"See here" asked the man sharply,
'who are you, where do you come
from? l have kept hidden in my
snack TOT uayS, Tearing tHdt lily pieS
ence might startle you away; yet your
playing played upon my heart strings
because it is such as l had hoped to
create. Tell me-about yourself?"
so Silvia told him. He listened as
others had not listened to her dream
ing; understanding, believing.
"You are right" he said at last,
"your father has bequeathed his gift
to you. What are you going to &c
with it?"
"1his," cried Silvia, and rose to hel
feet.
This is the song that my father
would have played when death callec
him."
Over the tree tops the enchanted
melody rippled. Against the girls
round chin the violin sang wondrous
ly of life, of JOY, of sorrow. Ant
when the song finished the man leaned
| tensely forward.