"Then come--if you care for organ music. The organist is an old
friend of mine, and sometimes he plays for me. He's a dear old man.
He had a degree from Bonn, and was a professor afterward, but he
gave up everything for music. That's he, waiting in the doorway.
He looks like Beethoven, doesn't he? I think he knows that, perhaps
and enjoys it a little. I hope so."
"Yes," said Bibbs, as they reached the church steps. "I think
Beethoven would like it, too. It must be pleasant to look like
other people."
"I haven't kept you?" Mary said to the organist.
"No, no," he answered, heartily. "I would not mind so only you
should shooer come!"
"This is Mr. Sheridan, Dr. Kraft. He has come to listen with me."
The organist looked bluntly surprised. "Iss that SO?" he exclaimed.
"Well, I am glad if you wish him, and if he can stant my liddle
playink. He iss musician himself, then, of course."
"No," said Bibbs, as the three entered the church together. "I--I
played the--I tried to play--" Fortunately he checked himself; he
had been about to offer the information that he had failed to master
the jews'-harp in his boyhood. "No, I'm not a musician," he contented
himself with saying.
Pages:
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206