Scandinavian American. [volume] (Seattle, Wash.) 1945-1958, 1946-02-01

the sounds came out when his IA
Their pulled a stick, a different
kind of a stick this time, across
some fine strings that were tied
across the shining top.
Kjittil had seen what happens
to evil doors. The big club had
looked terrible coming down out
of the air. But would there be
any harm done if he just looked
at the magic music box?
Kjittil looked around carefully.
The women were all busy behind
closed doors. The little brothers
were busy too. Father was away.
A long way, he hoped.
Kjittil left left his wood pile
and ran to the cabin. He opened
the door and looked inside. He
stepped in quickly and closed the
door. holding his n d on the
latch.
The house was very quiet. En-
bers fell in the fireplace and made
a loud sound in the stiffness. The
stiffness seemed hollow. He had
never found it like this before
Always there were others here
helping to fill the stiffness.
Something was drumming. He
could hear the regular thump,
thump, thump, thump. His heart,
of course. He opened the door and
listened. Then he looked out. No
one stirred. No sounds but his
| heart.
Well, why should he be scared?
He only wanted to look at the
darn thing.
He climbed up on a bench and
took in down. He unwound the
string that held the green cloth
skirt around the neck of the vio-
lin. 1t slipped to the floor as he
held the bow in one hand and the
violin in the other.
He sat down on the bench, put
the bow down and examined the
prize. The wood was fine and
soft as silk. His left hand chung
gently to the long smooth neck
with its hard black thing on
the upper side.
There We're nerves in Kjittil's
left arm that came alive when
his fingers curled around that in
strument. The arm bent upwards
and tucked the other end of the
violin under his chin. 1t seemed
to kjittil that the violin put it
self in the right position for use.
Maybe it did. 1t was very old
piece. Wise to all, no doubt
Kjittil took up the bow with his
right hand. He knew just where
to grasp it. Down near the end
where the beautiful pearl square
was fitted in. He e d it up,
poised over the instrument. Some
thing happened to his shoulder,
his elbow, his wrist. Some kind of
glory feeling. He forgot where
he was. He put the two parts to-
gether. Sound came forth.
Yes, sound, But it wasn't ex-
actly right.
He knew what was the trouble
with the sound. He frightened the
strings. He frightened the bow.
Then he tried again. Not quite
right.
But at the third trial it was ex-
actly right. He realized that he
had known all the time just what
his father was doing when he
had watched him so eagerly
Kjittil stood up. Unconsciously
he assumed the pose of the mas
ter. Something came out of him
and drew the two parts of the
music maker together. Kjittil was
hypnotized. What if he did have
only two strings? Even one string
would sound. A n d the sounds
were harmonious. They were deep
and thrilling! He forgot time.
he forgot where he was. He for
got that no one was TO touch that
instrument. He closed his eyes
and drew the bow from bass to
soprano. 1t made soft. carressing
sounds while the tiny fingers of
his small left hand slipped gently
along the two strings He closed
his eyes in ecstaey and continued
to slide his fingers and draw the