Year: 1868

deed there.


She came at last, and service began
O, that night! Shall I ever forget its
pleasures ?-the wondering looks of the
friends and neighbors whocame in and
found in me, the despised awkward, left
handed saddler's apprentice, the prodigy
of which they had heard runors. O, it
was glorious! The first few strokes Of
my bow gave me confidence, and I did
we'll, and knew it. through the chants.
and on the anthem before the sermon
That was to be the gem of the evening;
! it was Handel's then new anthem, Il
know that my Redeemer liveth."
I began-harsh, inharmonious, out of
tune-I know not why or how; but as it
progressed spell seemed upon all but her
and myself; one by one the instruments
ceased and were silent; one by one the
voices died away and were lost, and she
and I, sound together and driven on by
an irresistible impulse, went through the
anthem; one soul. one spirit, seemed to
animate both. The whole congregation
listened breathless as to an angel; and she.
self-absorbed, and like one in a trance,
sang, filing me with delicious sense of
peace and exultation, the like of which l
have never known since.


It came to an end at last, and with the
last triumphant note I fell forward on the
desk in swoon.


When I recovered I found myself at
home in my own room, with the rector,
the doctor, and my parents there, and 1
heard the doctor say,


Il told you he would, my dear madam ;
l knew he would"


"Thank God" murmured my mother.
my dear boy, how we have feared for
you !''


What difference! I was courted and
made maeh, of. "Genius and Every
clever!" and "delightful talentp' such
were the expressions now heard instead
of ''stupid !' ''awkward!" and ''unft for
anything''


My father bought fine instrument,
and I was the hero of the village for
months.


It was some days after that Sunday
that ventured to ask about the rector's
niece.


"My dear boy" said my mother; ''the
like was never heard. We saw you there,
and wondered what you were doing; but
as soon as we saw you with the bow we
knew that you must be the person there'd
been so much talk about; and then, when
the anthem came and we all left off sing
ing, and they all left off playing, and only
you and Miss Cecilia kept on, we were all
in tears. I saw even the rector crying !;
and poor girl, she seemed as if in dream.
and so did you; it was dreadful for me to
seeyou with your eyes fixed Oh her. watch
ing her SO eagerly. And then to look at
her, staring up at the stained glass win
dow, as if she could see miles away in the
sky. Oh, am sure the like never was
and then when you fell down, I screamed,
and your father ran up and carried you
down, and brought you home in farmer
Slade's four Wheeler


After this had an invitation to 90 up
to the rectory, and there in the long win
ter evenings we used to sit; and while I
played she sang. 0, those happy times
when she loved .me, but only as friend,
and I loved her as I never had loved be-
fore or could love again. do not know
the kind of love l had for her. was but
a little older than she was, but I as fa-
ther might feel for his daughter; sweet
tenderness and love that made ME tender
to her. knew she loved a man unwor-
thy of her, and think at times she felt it,
was perfectly free at the rector's house
at last, and we used to find in our music
means of converse that our tongues could
never have known. All, me-those DAYS.
Alas! they have gone.


She left us at last, and in a few years
her motherless child came back in her
place, and as I again sit in the old recto-
ry parlor, years and years after my first
visit, with her daughter beside me sing
ing-but alas! not with her mothers
voice-all the old memories flooded back
upon me, and I feel grateful, calm Joy
in the openly shown respect and affection
of the daughter of her whom I SO loved so
silently, so tenderly, and SO long.


l sit in the old seat in the church now
and ply; and, once in the year, the old