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Just David

Chapter 7 YOU'RE WANTED-YOU'RE WANTED!

Word Count: 2440    |    Released on: 28/11/2017

kitchen, the boy knelt at the window and tried to find a breath of cool air from the hills. Downstairs on the porc

ast, breaking a long silence that had fallen between th

wants him," retorted he

t stopped short. David, violin in hand, had fled from the l

ry, even his father did nothing but play the fiddle and tramp through the woods day in and day out, with an occasional trip t

across the floor to the back hall, and on through the long sheds to th

f nobody wanted him? How was his violin to speak in a voice that was true and pure and full, and tell of the beautiful world, as his father had said that it must do? David quite cried aloud at the thought. Then he thought of something else that his father had said: "Remember this, my boy,-

at that moment Mrs

poorhouse-if they'd take him; but-Simeon," she br

ened with i

arn, I sh

'd gone

n Holly grimly, as he rose to his feet and

s and trills and rollicking bits of melody floated down the stairway to-night. The notes were long-drawn, and plaintivel

same rafters ring with shouts of laughter, and who, also, had played the violin-though not like this; and

nviting space that offered,-whether it were the "best-room" wall-paper, or the fly leaf of the big plush album,-and at eighteen he had announced his determination to be an artist. For a year after that S

; though two unanswered letters in Simeon Holly's desk test

ere thinking, as they stood just inside the barn door; it was of Baby John, the little curly-headed fellow

and it was not as she h

ried across the floor and up the stairs, followed by her husband. "Come, David

oked when there was in them the far-away something that hurt. Very slowly he came

-want me?"

figure in the yellow-white gown-John's gown. Into her eyes looked those other

s!" she cried with sudden passion, clasp

sighed h

with no words said. The man turned then, with a cu

n once more David had gone to bed, S

o, by that absurd outburst of yours in the barn to-night-and all b

, Simeon. He-he mak

th, but there was a perceptible s

He can work, I suppose, if he's taught, and in that way he won't perhaps be a dead loss. Still,

nough for it-in the bank." Mrs. Hol

the man. "But almost en

two months. It isn't due til

, there's the boy. What ar

use him-on the

One can't hoe corn nor pull weeds with a fiddle-b

n; whenever before had Ellen Holly ventured to use words of argume

Humph!" under the breath. Then Simeon

ss confining life, though never had it taken from him the uncompromising rigor of his views. It was a distinct shock to him, therefore, on this Sunday morning to be awakened by a peal of music such as the little house had never known before. All the while that he was thrusting his indignant self into his clo

ou mean by this

ughed gl

inging, 'You're wanted-you're wanted;' and the sun came over the hill there and said, 'You're wanted-you're wanted;' and the little tr

Lord's Day," remonstr

ionless, his ey

chised the man sharply. "Have they ne

relief. "God wraps up the buds in their litt

oots," interrupted the man severely. "This i

oly

not fiddle nor

beautiful things," defended Da

" conceded the man, stiff

e wouldn't

es

then. Your God isn't the same one, sir, for mine

the first time in his life Simeon

put it another way-I don't wish you to play your fiddle on Sunday.

h Mrs. Holly and Perry Larson sitting very stiff and solemn in their chairs, while Mr. Holly read. David tried to sit very stiff and solemn in his chair, also; but the roses at the window were nodding their heads and beckoning; and the birds in the bushes beyond were sending to

his foot, and the roving of his wistful eyes told that his mind was not with

prepared for church. David had never been to church. He asked Perry Larson what i

, now?"-which to David was

ubbed and brushed and combed. There was, too, brought out for him to wear a little clean white blouse

following Mr. and Mrs. Holly down its long center aisle. The Hollys were early as usual, and service had not beg

m this same great man paid for the skilled organist who came every Sunday from the city to play it. To-day, as the organist took his seat, he noticed a new face

his head, and brought him to his feet in ecstasy. Before a detaining hand could stop him, he was out in the aisle, his eyes on the blue-and-gold pipes from which seemed

died into silence and the minister rose for the invocation. It w

aid, "would you-could y

g in his ear. The minister, after a dazed silence, bowed his head; while down in the Holly pew an angry man a

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