Annual (May 1900) . o show that she wentexcept a page from her diary, written the dayafter her marriage. It finishes the story of theviolin, so far as written history is concerned: July 20, 1765. Yesterday 1 was mar-ried to John. Last evening as 1 was workingin the kitchen 1 heard the low strains of aviolin. 1 listened. The violin was Johns; noone could play like that but him. It grewlouder, then died into a wail, and I thought thatperhaps something had happened. 1 would goand see, 1 walked slowly down the path to thespring, and in the dusk I saw the figure of aman upon a horse. I stopped, ove
Annual (May 1900) . o show that she wentexcept a page from her diary, written the dayafter her marriage. It finishes the story of theviolin, so far as written history is concerned: July 20, 1765. Yesterday 1 was mar-ried to John. Last evening as 1 was workingin the kitchen 1 heard the low strains of aviolin. 1 listened. The violin was Johns; noone could play like that but him. It grewlouder, then died into a wail, and I thought thatperhaps something had happened. 1 would goand see, 1 walked slowly down the path to thespring, and in the dusk I saw the figure of aman upon a horse. I stopped, overcome withfear, but the musician was evidently afraid tocome nearer as he beckoned to me with thebow of the violin. As I went closer he sprangfrom his horse, and when I recovered from myfright we were flying along the river bank while John told me that he knew I would nevercome of my own accord. Perhaps not, but an hour later we were married and are nowon our way to Virginia to Aunt Prudence. Mabel G. Walters, ENTERTAINMENTS BY THE SENIORS
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