PRACTISING.
Ma--Bolax you are wasting your time, don't stop, you have not practised
long enough.
Bolax--Look at the clock, Ma, dear. It was bright sunlight when I began,
and now the shades of night are falling.
Ma--That's very poetical, but you must continue practising.
Bolax--Oh, you are the provokingest mother I ever saw; I'll not love you
a bit after a while, if you keep on making me practise.
Ma--Go on with your lesson, especially that piece for the concert.
Bolax--Bang, bang, oh, how I wish the man who invented pianos was dead.
Ma--Well, he is dead.
Bolax--Then I wish all the professors were dead.
Ma--A great many of them are. Go on with your work.
Bolax--Oh, Ma, dear, can't you let up on a fellow, if you don't, indeed,
indeed, I'll be dead too!
Ma--That has no effect upon me, Bo, I make you practise for your own
good. I take the trouble to sit here and worry over you, when I might be
upstairs resting.
Bolax--But Ma, dear, how do other boys manage? Their mothers don't
bother to make them learn music.
Ma--Perhaps those boys don't need the urging you do.
By this time the patient mother began to show signs of nervousness, and
Bo, who really loved his "Ma dear" began to play with a will, but having
the spirit of mischief strong in him, put some funny words to the tune
he was playing.
Bolax--Oh, twenty thousand rats and forty thousand cats, they all
screamed and yelled in sharps and flats!
Suddenly turning round on the stool, he said, "Ma, dear, just let me
tell you a dream I had, while I'm resting my fingers."
Ma--Well, only for two minutes.
Bolax--Last night you made me practise so much and old Professor was so
dreadful at lesson, that I dreamed I went to the piano, and all the keys
turned to Brownies, they looked more like Goblins, and began to dance up
and down, they played jig music. It was fine. I gave them "On the
Meadow" and "Sounds from the Forest," and they played the two pieces
right off.
Ma--Now dear, give just one-half hour more to your lesson and I'll let
you have all day tomorrow free, it's the beginning of the Christmas
holidays, and the cold is so intense I shouldn't be surprised if the
skating and sliding would be fine.
Thus spurred on, Bo surprised himself, and the half hour was more than
passed when his mother called him to come upstairs, but he was in the
middle of a piece and waited to finish it.
Bolax continued playing softly, then called out--"Ma, dear! I wonder if
we will have an adventure this year like last Christmas." "Not very
likely, my dear; fortunately there are not many placed in the position
poor Mary Ryan was that night. I have invited her to come to the
Sunday-school entertainment, and her little Joe is to represent the
infant Jesus in the tableaux of the crib."
"Oh, that will be splendid. Hurrah!" shouted Bo.
December 23 was a glorious winter day. The sun shone brilliantly, no
wind, and the thermometer low enough to keep the skating pond in good
condition, the ice and snow on the hills crisp and slippery for
coasting. All day long was heard the jingle of sleigh bells and the
shouts of merry children enjoying themselves, rang through the air.
Elmer Mullen, who was a boy of sixteen, had formed a great friendship
for Bo. He was quite a good musician and seemed attracted towards the
little boy because of his musical talent.
Whenever there was any especial fun on hand, Elmer always called for Bo
to join him. There were seven boys who always went together--Elmer
Mullen, John Montgomery, Joe Davis, Tom Nolan, Walter Rhue and Bolax.
Elmer and John had been prospecting for a hill to make a toboggan slide.
They found one very high, but rather steep, it was about a mile from the
village. This was just what suited them for they wanted to keep away
from the rough crowd.
On the very top of this hill was a small shanty built the previous
summer by the men who had been cutting down trees.
"Say boys," said Elmer, "let us play we are the monks of St. Bernard."
"But we haven't even one St. Bernard dog," said John.
"Yes, we have," replied Archie. "Joe Davis has a tremendous fellow, he
rolls in the snow, and dug out a chicken that had been buried in a
drift, and brought it into the kitchen without hurting it." "Let us have
him by all means," said Elmer. "We will call the hut our monastery and
pretend this hill is the top of Mount Blanc; we'll send our dogs to find
people who are lost in the snow."
"I can bring our Don," said Bolax. "He's most as big as a St. Bernard,
but where will we get people to rescue?"
"Let me see," reflected Elmer. "I am the oldest; I'll be the Abbott, you
boys will be the brothers; you must all obey the Abbott."--"Obey!"
exclaimed Bo. "Oh, that's no fun, we're always having to do that. I want
to whoop and holler; let us be snowed-up Indians and make the shanty our
Teepee."
"Well," said Elmer, "this afternoon we seven boys will meet. Bring the
dogs and sleds, then we'll decide which it shall be--Monks or Indians."
After dinner the seven chums climbed Mount Blanc. Elmer told the boys
Mount Blanc was one of the highest mountains in Europe, about 10,000
feet above the level of the sea. "Great goodness!" exclaimed Bolax. "No
one could ever climb such a height! Oh, Elmer let us be Esquimos."
Saying this Joe Davis and Bo began a series of gyrations accompanied by
war-whoops, and getting on their sleds, pitched down the hillside into
an unexpected drift. Nothing could be seen of them but the soles of
their shoes.
Elmer and the other boys set to work immediately to rescue the Indians.
With the help of Don and Bosco both were gotten out after very hard
digging with boards, for they dared not wait to go to find shovels, lest
the boys would suffocate. When our brave Indians were delivered from
their perilous position, it took vigorous rubbing to bring them to their
senses.
Elmer then proposed placing them on the sleds and taking them home. On
the way they stopped at a farmhouse and the good woman gave them some
hot lemonade, with a generous supply of sugar, the boys found it
delicious and were loud in their expressions of gratitude, for the hot
drink entirely revived our Esquimos.
Passing along the road to the village they saw some grown folks in
Houston's meadow sledding, and shouting as if they were boys again. Joe
Davis' papa was among them, so he ran to join in the fun, not a whit the
worse for his snow bath.
Elmer suddenly remembered that Professor had appointed that night for
the rehearsal. "Oh, yes!" said Bo. "By the way, it's to be at our house
and I had forgotten all about it. Mamma has invited some of the
neighbors to spend the evening and act as audience, so that the timid
ones will get used to playing before strangers. Here we are. The gate is
open and there's a sleigh at the barn, I shouldn't wonder if Professor
had come already. Elmer, do hurry back; don't dress as if it were the
real concert."
When Bolax went into the library, Papa and Professor were chatting
pleasantly, seated before a roaring fire with its yule log, reminding
one of the "Merry Christmas" cheer of olden times. "Hello, my boy!" said
Professor, reminding Bo that he had promised to distinguish himself and
hoping he had practised so well as to be sure of all his pieces. "Marie
Love is my prima donna and I want you to be leading man."
After tea the young ladies and children who were to take part in the
concert came into the house laughing and shaking the snow from their
clothes, all enjoyed the cheerful fire, and when comfortably warm the
music began, as Professor did not wish to keep late hours on a snowy
night.
Elmer gave a selection from the "Carnival of Venice" on the violin.
Every one complimented him, but Bo was loud in praise of his favorite
chum.
"What do you expect to do with yourself, Elmer, after you leave school?"
asked Mr. Allen.
"Well, I hope to be a priest, I expect to enter the seminary next
September."
"Hurrah!" exclaimed Bolax. "Now I know why you wanted to play Monks
instead of Indians." This caused the whole adventure of the afternoon
to be recounted. Professor laughed heartily at the exploit of the
Indians, but begged Bo to keep out of danger until after the concert. "I
don't want your head or hands to be lacking that night. Now, ladies and
gentlemen, if you are ready we will begin. The first on the program is:
1. Lorita Grand Concert Waltz _Holst_
Master Allen and Miss Love.
2. Mazurka Tzigane _Lichner_
Miss Amy Allen.
3. Violin Solo,
Bessie Donati.
4. Narcissus _I. Leybach_
Miss Louis Harrison.
5. Oration on Music.
Elmer Mullen.
ORATION ON MUSIC.
The pleasure derived from music arises from its exciting agreeable
sensations, and creating pleasing mental images and emotions. Apart from
words, it expresses passion and sentiment; joined to words it becomes a
beautiful illustration of language. From the earliest ages of the world
music was held in high esteem, and in Egypt and Greece was considered an
essential part of the religion of these ancient nations. God's greatest
gift for man's pleasure is the hearing of sweet sounds. He gives us
music in songs of the birds and there is such a variety of these aeriel
musicians. In Paraguay, South America, is a bird called the "bell." When
traveling through the forest one hears it at early morning, at mid-day
and in the evening. So wonderfully like a bell is the note of this bird
that on hearing its clear ring at regular intervals, one would suppose
he were listening to the Angelus-bell from the tower of some church or
monastery.
Music must be loved to be studied profitably. Each new step taken in the
right direction develops power and suggests possibilities to the loving
student.
Music is useful in all occupations of life. How often have we not heard
of missionaries converting savage tribes by telling them the truths of
religion in song.
The physician can bring music with his practice and calm a nervous
patient by playing a soft, soothing air, which sometimes has more effect
than medicine.
Music is not only a body healer, it is also a mind regulator. Inward
activities are called up, and become new powers within the breasts, for,
remember emotion nerves for action.
The most stupid horse that goes up hill to the sound of bells, the
timidest soldier that marches to battle with fife and drum, the most
delicate girl who spins around tireless in the dance, the poorest
laborer who sings at his work, any of them will prove that music rouses
and sustains emotion.
Painting, sculpture and other arts which men spend years and years
acquiring are useful for this world only, but music they can take with
them to Heaven.
O, music! thou language of the Gods, how shall I find words wherewith to
sound thy praises. Thou art the soother of sorrows, earth is happy under
thy influence, and Heaven would be deprived of half its glory without
thee!
This was very much applauded, and Colonel O'Brien called out "well done,
Father Mullen, you'll be giving us fine sermons in a few years."
Next number is:
6. Charge of the Uhlans _Carl Bohm_
Mr. Clement Lowery.
7. Menuette l'Antique _Gobbart_
Miss Nora O'Brien.
8. Ivy Leaves _H. Leston_
Flossie Holloway.
9. L'Hirondelle _Leybach_
Master Bo Allen.
10. Overture to Barbier de Seville _Rossini_
Professor Rinaldi and Miss Marie Love.
11. Les Rameaux
John Kenan.
12. Song--"The Bells that Ring for me" _Rinaldi_
Miss Charlotte Verier.
13. Marche Triumphale _Mozart_
Miss Amy and Bolax Allen.
This ended the rehearsal. Professor than spoke a few words thanking the
audience for their evident appreciation of his pupils' efforts.
Colonel O'Brien, who seemed to be spokesman for the rest of the company,
said: "Professor, it is we who should thank you. I can honestly say I am
surprised at the proficiency of your pupils; either they have
extraordinary talent or you are a wonderfully successful master. Now let
us give three cheers for Professor and wish him health, happiness and
great success for the coming year." The cheers were given with a hearty
ring, for the dear gentleman was highly esteemed by every one.
"Professor," said Elmer. "Bolax knows a fine piece, I think it ought to
be on the program." "Well, Elmer, not this time; I fear we have kept our
audience too long for such a stormy night."
"Oh, no, no!" called out several of the ladies. "Come, Bo let us hear
your oration."
"Oh, bother! It is not an oration; it's just a funny piece about a
newsboy, who got into a church and is astonished at all he hears and
sees."
THE NEWSBOY'S SOLILOQUY ON HEARING A BOY SING IN CHURCH.
BY THOMAS KELLEY, OF OMAHA.
Well, ye see, I'd sold my papers,
Every bloomin' blessed one,
And was strollin' round the corner.
Just a prospectin' for fun,
I was loafin' by the railin'
Of that church you see right there,
With its crosses and its towers,
Kind of settin' off the square,
And I got a sort of lonesome,
For the gang, they weren't around,
When I heard a noise of music,
Seemed like comin' from the ground.
It was nothin' but some singin',
But it sounded mighty fine,
Course, I ain't no judge of them things,
An' it's no affair o' mine.
Then it seemed to kind o' weaken,
And I didn't hear it plain,
Till the band struck up a whoopin'
An' heerd it all again.
Well there seemed to be a show there,
That I thought I'd like to see,
An' there was so many a goin'
I jest says--I'll bet it's free.
So I looks around the corner,
An' I makes a careful search,
For I knew the kids'd guy me,
If they heerd I'd been to Church.
Well, there warn't a soul a-lookin',
So I up an' walks right in,
An' I sat down in a corner,
While they finished up their hymn.
Well, sir! blow me if I ever
Was so taken aback!
There was marchin' up the aisle
A gang of kids in white an' black.
They was singin' just like angels,
An' they looked so slick and nice,
I wondered where they got 'em--
Were they always kept on ice?
An' they wore a long black cloak, sir;
Comin' to their very feet,
An' an overall of white stuff,
Just like what's in a sheet.
Then some men came on behind them,
Singing loudly as they came,
But although the kids was weaker,
They got there all the same.
Then behind the whole percession,
Came two men, most all in white,
An' they wore some fancy biziness,
An' they looked jest out o' sight,
But they didn't do no singin',
Just kept still an' looked ahead,
An' says I'll bet they're runnin'
All the show, that's what I said.
Then they all got up in front there,
An' the music sounded grand,
But to save my neck I couldn't,
Get a sight, sir, of the band.
I could hear it as distinctly,
So I guessed it must be near,
But I saw no men, nor nothin',
An' I thought it very queer.
Well, a man was standin' near me,
An' I touched him with my hand,
Then he looked around and saw me,
An' sez I: "Say, where's the band?"
Then he looked at me a grinin',
Just as tho' I'd made a joke,
That 'ere look he gave me,
Made me sorry that I'd spoke.
Then he says: "Why, that's the organ;
All those pipes you see up there,
One man plays it with his fingers,
An' another pumps the air."
Here the music stopped so sudden,
That I most forgot myself,
An' I heerd some man a talkin'
From a book laid on a shelf.
Then they all got up and read some,
First the man, then the crowd,
After that they knelt down softly,
An' I seed their heads were bowed.
So I bowed my head down too, sir;
An' listens to every word,
But I didn't understand them,
Every time they said, "Good Lord!"
Well they kept that up some longer,
Till a plate came down the aisle,
An' some people dropped in money,
Some others dropped a smile.
I suppose they'd come on passes,
For they were allowed to stay,
So I gave them my four pennies,
It was all I had that day.
Then a kid got up in front there,
With a paper in his hand,
All the rest was sittin' quiet,
An' the man tuned up the band.
Well, that kid began a singin'
Till I thought my heart 'ud break,
For my throat was full of choking,
An' my hands began to shake.
Well, I never seen no angels,
An' their songs I never heard,
But I'll bet that there's no angel,
Beats that kid--for he's a bird.
He was lookin' like a picture,
With his robes of white and black,
An' I felt my tears a comin',
For I couldn't keep 'em back;
An' I wondered if he always
Was as good as he looked there,
Singin' all about the angels,
Angels ever bright an' fair,
Well thinks I, guess it's easy,
To be good and sing so sweet,
But you know it's kind o' different,
Sellin' papers on the street.
When the kid got thro' his singin'
I got up an' made a sneak,
An' I went outside the church there,
An' I swear I couldn't speak.
Then I ran across the gang, sir;
They was hangin' round for me,
But some how I didn't want 'em,
An' just why, I couldn't see.
So I said I couldn't join 'em
Cos I had another date,
An' I went on walking homeward,
Like a kid without a mate.
An' I sneaked in just as quiet,
An' I lay down on my bed
Till I slept an' got a dreamin'
'Bout the angels overhead.
An' they wore such shinin' garments,
An' they sang so sweet and fine,
An' the one right in the middle
Was that singin' kid of mine.
Now I kinder want to know, sir--
So I'm askin', you see--
If them kids can all be angels,
Is there any show for me?
Bo was applauded "to the echo," and Professor said that piece should be
recited at the May Concert. Just before leaving, every guest had to take
a cup of cocoa, as Hetty said. "You all jest drink it up, it will put a
web of flannel round you' heart, an' keep out the cold dis freezin'
night."
Elmer and the boys started a college song--"Good Night and Good-Bye
'Till We Meet Again."