IX.

The ice was broken. On the following day the boy with timid curiosity

came into the drawing-room, where he had not been since the new city

guest—that angry, loud-voiced creature—had taken possession of the room.

But yesterday he heard the guest sing a song that pleased his ear, and

gave him cause to change his opinion of the instrument. With the last

lingering traces of his former timidity he drew near the spot where the

piano stood, and stopping at a short distance from it, he listened. There

was no one in the drawing-room. His mother sat on a sofa in the adjoining

room, sewing; she held her breath as she watched him, admiring every

movement, every change of expression on his sensitive face.

Putting out his hand, the blind boy touched the polished surface of the

piano; then overcome by bashfulness, he immediately withdrew it. Having

twice repeated this experiment he drew nearer, and began a careful

examination of the instrument, stooping to the floor to pass his hand

over the legs, and feeling his way as far around its sides as he could

go. At last his hand touched the smooth key-board: the soft reverberation

of the string vibrated uncertainly on the air. The boy listened to this

vibration long after it had ceased to be audible to his mother; then with

a look of intense interest he touched another key. Presently, as he drew

his hand along the key-board, he happened to touch a note of the upper

register; then he touched every note, one after the other, and paused to

listen as they vibrated in trembling cadence and were lost in the air.

The face of the blind boy wore an expression of mingled attention and

delight; he evidently enjoyed every separate tone, and by this sensitive

observation of each elementary sound as component parts of melodies yet

unborn, the future artist might be divined.

But it seemed as if each note possessed for the blind boy an attribute

peculiar to itself. When beneath the pressure of his finger a brilliant

note of the upper register rang out, a glow would come upon his face,

uplifted as if to follow the ringing note in its upward flight; but when

he touched a deep bass-note, he stooped to listen,—seeming to feel sure

that the heavy note must be rolling along the ground, scattering itself

all over the floor, to be finally lost in the corners.

The Blind Musician · 第 36 / 69 题