MUSICAL CONVERSATIONS
ONCE in a great while Marian and Ella had a chance to play together.
These rare occasions were times of joy.
Mrs. St. Claire usually took Ella with her wherever she went, but
sometimes she was compelled to leave the child at home with her father
or Tilly, and there was merriment in the house. The little cousins
had gay times and their only regret was that such hours of happiness
were few. At last Marian thought of a plan. Her new room was opposite
Ella's. As Aunt Amelia insisted upon sending Marian to bed at seven,
Uncle George declared that early hours were necessary for Ella's
welfare. Accordingly, both children went to their rooms at the same
time with instructions not to talk. No one cautioned them not to sing
and singing was one of Marian's habits. After listening to the solos a
few nights, Ella tried a song of her own and that gave Marian an idea.
She listened until Ella stopped for breath and then expressed a few
thoughts to the tune of "Home, Sweet Home."
"O-oh, I know what will be great fun
And I'll tell you what it is,
We will play go to gay old concerts,
And take our children too.
"First the other lady
Can sing a good long song,
And then it will be my turn next,
And I'll sing a song myself.
"Fun fu-un-fun, fun-fun,
I guess it will be fun-fun,
I guess it will be fun."
It was fun. The other lady took the hint quickly. She and her children
went to the concert without waiting to get ready. Furthermore she left
herself sitting beside her children in the best seat in the hall and at
the same time took her place on the stage. She even went so far as to
become a colored man while she sang
"Way down upon the Suwanee River."
Ella's mother came up-stairs for something as the gentleman was
rendering this selection with deep feeling, but she had no idea that
her little daughter was singing on the stage, nor did she know that the
greatest soprano in America was the next performer, although she did
hear Marian begin in tragic tones, "'There is a happy land, far, far
away.'" "Far, far away" was tremulous with emotion.
From that hour dated many a concert, and after the concerts, the ladies
continued to sing everything they had wished to talk over during the
day. Often the musical conversations were cut short by an admonition
from the hall below, but even Tilly never learned the nature of those
evening songs. As the children disturbed nobody and were put to bed
long before they were sleepy, Uncle George said, "Let them sing." In
this way Marian and Ella became well acquainted.
One night Marian asked Ella if she knew anything about how she happened
to be taken to the Little Pilgrim's Home when she was a baby.
"No-o-o," replied Ella in shrill soprano,
"They won't tell-ell me-e a thing now-ow days
But a long time ago-go
They used to talk about everything
Right before me-e, only the trouble is-s,
I was such a little goo-oose
I didn't think much about it."
"Do you know anything about my mother-other-other?"
Chanted the musician across the hall.
"No-o-o," was the response,
"I only know-o that my mother-other
Didn't know your mother-other, ever in her li-ife,
But I do-oo remember-ember that the folks at that Ho-o-me
Had some things that used to belong-long
To your mother-other.
And they are packed away-way somewhere in the house.
I guess they are in the attic-attic,
But of course I don't know-o.
"Once I saw-aw a picture of your mother-other
But I don't remember-ember
What she looked like, looked like-looked like.
Don't you wi-ish your mother wasn't dead?
If you had a mother-other
I could go to your hou-ouse
And your mother-other
Would let us play together-ether."
"Yes, yes, she would," Marian's voice chimed in,
"She would let us play-ay
All the day-ay.
And sometimes I thi-ink my mother is ali-ive,
And if she is, won't I be gla-ad.
If I do find my mother-other
And I go to live with her-er,
Why, may be your mother-other will die-i
And then you can come and live with u-us
And won't that be gay-ay.
You never know what's going to happen in this world."
"What kind of a song are you singing?" called Aunt Amelia.
"Opera house music," replied Marian, who feared that concerts were over
for the season when she heard the question.
"I thought," responded Aunt Amelia, "that a lunatic asylum was turned
loose. Don't let me hear another sound to-night."
The musicians laughed softly, and there were no more solos that evening.
The following day Ella and Aunt Amelia went visiting and in the middle
of the forenoon, when Tilly was busily working in the kitchen, Marian
climbed the attic stairs with determination in her eye. An old portrait
of George Washington on the wall at the landing seemed to question
her motives. "Don't worry, Mr. Washington," remarked the child, "I'm
not going to tell a lie, but sir, I'm looking for my mother and I'm
going to find her if she's here." Marian gazed steadily at the face in
the old oaken frame, and meeting with no disapproval there, passed on,
leaving the Father of her Country to guard the stairway.
There were numerous trunks, boxes, barrels and an old sea-chest in the
attic. Marian hesitated a moment before deciding to try the yellow
chest. Her knees shook as she lifted the cover. At first she was
disappointed; there seemed to be nothing but blankets in the chest.
Then a bit of blue silk peeping from beneath the blankets caught her
eye and Marian knew she was searching in the right place. From the
depths of the chest she drew forth a bundle, unfolded it and beheld a
beautiful gown of pale blue silk, trimmed with exquisite lace. Tears
filled her eyes as she touched the shimmering wonder. She had never
seen anything like it.
"This was my mother's," she whispered, and kissed the round neck as
she held the waist close in her arms. "She wore it once, my mother."
Marian would gladly have looked at the dress longer but time was
precious and there was much to see. Embroidered gowns of purest white,
bright sashes and ribbons were there, and many another dainty belonging
of the woman whose name was never mentioned in the presence of her
child. In a carved ivory box, were jewels. Marian closed it quickly,
attracted by a bundle at the bottom of the chest. She had found it at
last. The picture of her mother. It was in an oval frame, wrapped in a
shawl of white wool.
"Oh, if I had her, if she could only come to me," cried Marian, as the
lovely face became her own. Though the child might never again see the
picture, yet would it be ever before her.
When she dared stay in the attic no longer, Marian kissed the picture,
wrapped it in the white shawl and laid it tenderly away. As she did so
she noticed for the first time a folded newspaper on the bottom of the
chest. Inside the paper was a small photograph. Marian tiptoed to the
attic stairs and listened a moment before she looked at the photograph.
Then she uttered a low exclamation of delight. There was no doubt that
the face in the oval frame was her mother's, for the small picture was
a photograph of Marian's father and a beautiful woman. "It's the same
head," whispered the child, "and oh, how pretty she is. I am so glad
she is my mother!
"I wonder what they saved an old newspaper so carefully for?" continued
Marian. "Maybe I had better look at it. What does this mean? 'Claimed
by Relatives,' who was claimed, I wonder? Oh! I was! Now I'll find out
all I want to know because, only see how much it tells!"
Marian laid the photograph down and read the article from beginning
to end. She didn't see George Washington when she passed him on the
landing on the way down-stairs and for the rest of the day the child
was so quiet every one in the house marveled. There were no concerts
that evening. The leading soprano had too much on her mind. The
following morning Marian sharpened her lead pencil and opened her
diary. After looking for a moment at the white page she closed the book.
"No use writing down what you are sure to remember," she remarked, "and
besides that, it is all too sad and finished. I am going outdoors and
have some fun." Marian was in the back yard watching a cricket, when
Ella sauntered down the path singing, "Good-morning, Merry Sunshine."
"Where are you going, sweetheart?" called her mother from the kitchen
window.
"Just down here by the fence to get some myrtle leaves," Ella replied
and went on singing.
Marian bent over the cricket nor did she look up although Ella gave her
surprising information as she passed.
"If I were you, Miss Marian Lee,
I'll tell you what I'd do,
I'd pack my doll and everything I wanted to take with me,
Because in the very early morning,
You're surely going away
To a country town where you will stay
Until school begins again.
"I knew they were going to send you somewhere,
But I didn't know just when,
Until I just now heard my father and mother
Both talking all about it.
I know you'll have a pretty good time,
I wish I were going too,
But maybe you'll find some girls to play with,
I'm sure I hope you do."
Marian smiled but dared not reply, especially as the singer broke
down and laughed and Aunt Amelia knew there were no funny lines in
"Good-morning, Merry Sunshine."
The hint was enough. Marian straightened her affairs for a journey and
a long absence from home.