Excerpt: ...work up in the air. He had walked around to the choir
school, but no one was there that morning, not a sound came from
the inside. Then he had started down across the park. As he sat
down to count his money, a man who had climbed up the hillside
stopped and asked him a great many questions: who taught him music
and whether any one had ever heard him sing. This stranger also
liked music and he also went to the cathedral, so he claimed. From
that point the story wound its way onward across the busy hours
till nightfall. It was a child's story, not an older person's.
Therefore it did not draw the line between pleasant and unpleasant,
fair and unfair, right and wrong, which make up for each of us the
history of 74 our checkered human day. It separated life as a
swimmer separates the sea: there is one water which he parts by his
passage. So the child, who is still wholly a child, divides the
world. But as she pondered, she discriminated. Out of the long,
rambling narrative she laid hold of one overwhelming incident,
forgetting the rest: a passing stranger, hearing a few notes of his
voice, had stopped to question him about it. To her this was the
first outside evidence that her faith in his musical gift was not
groundless. When he had ended his story she regarded him across the
table with something new in her eyes
|Country of origin:
James Lane Allen
||246 x 189 x 1mm (L x W x T)
||Paperback - Trade
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