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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416611" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Floretty's Musical Contribution</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">All seemed delighted, though the elders more,<br>Of course, than were the children.--Thus, before<br>Much interchange of mirthful compliment,<br>The story-teller said _his_ stories 'went'<br>(Like a bad candle) _best_ when they went _out_,--<br>And that some sprightly music, dashed about,<br>Would _wholly_ quench his 'glimmer,' and inspire<br>Far brighter lights.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And, answering this desire,<br>The flutist opened, in a rapturous strain<br>Of rippling notes--a perfect April-rain<br>Of melody that drenched the senses through;--<br>Then--gentler--gentler--as the dusk sheds dew,<br>It fell, by velvety, staccatoed halts,<br>Swooning away in old 'Von Weber's Waltz.'<br>Then the young ladies sang 'Isle of the Sea'--<br>In ebb and flow and wave so billowy,--<br>Only with quavering breath and folded eyes<br>The listeners heard, buoyed on the fall and rise<br>Of its insistent and exceeding stress<br>Of sweetness and ecstatic tenderness ...<br>With lifted finger _yet_, Remembrance--List!--<br>'_Beautiful isle of the sea!_' wells in a mist<br>Of tremulous ...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">... After much whispering<br>Among the children, Alex came to bring<br>Some kind of _letter_--as it seemed to be--<br>To Cousin Rufus. This he carelessly<br>Unfolded--reading to himself alone,--<br>But, since its contents became, later, known,<br>And no one '_plagued_ so _awful_ bad,' the same<br>May here be given--of course without full name,<br>Fac-simile, or written kink or curl<br>Or clue. It read:--</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Wild Roved an indian Girl<br>Brite al Floretty'<br>deer freind<br>I now take<br>*this* These means to send that _Song_ to you & make<br>my Promus good to you in the Regards<br>Of doing What i Promust afterwards,<br>the _notes_ & _Words_ is both here _Printed_ SOS<br>you *kin* can git _uncle Mart_ to read you *them* those<br>& cousin Rufus you can git to _Play_<br>the _notes_ fur you on eny Plezunt day<br>His Legul Work aint *Pressin* Pressing.<br>Ever thine<br>As shore as the Vine<br>doth the Stump intwine<br>thou art my Lump of Sackkerrine<br>Rinaldo Rinaldine<br>the Pirut in Captivity.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">... There dropped<br>Another square scrap.--But the hand was stopped<br>That reached for it--Floretty suddenly<br>Had set a firm foot on her property--<br>Thinking it was the _letter_, not the _song_,--<br>But blushing to discover she was wrong,<br>When, with all gravity of face and air,<br>Her precious letter _handed_ to her there<br>By Cousin Rufus left her even more<br>In apprehension than she was before.<br>But, testing his unwavering, kindly eye,<br>She seemed to put her last suspicion by,<br>And, in exchange, handed the song to him.--</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A page torn from a song-book: Small and dim<br>Both notes and words were--but as plain as day<br>They seemed to him, as he began to play--<br>And plain to _all_ the singers,--as he ran<br>An airy, warbling prelude, then began<br>Singing and swinging in so blithe a strain,<br>That every voice rang in the old refrain:<br>From the beginning of the song, clean through,<br>Floretty's features were a study to<br>The flutist who 'read _notes_' so readily,<br>Yet read so little of the mystery<br>Of that face of the girl's.--Indeed _one_ thing<br>Bewildered him quite into worrying,<br>And that was, noticing, throughout it all,<br>The Hired Man shrinking closer to the wall,<br>She ever backing toward him through the throng<br>Of barricading children--till the song<br>Was ended, and at last he saw her near<br>Enough to reach and take him by the ear<br>And pinch it just a pang's worth of her ire<br>And leave it burning like a coal of fire.<br>He noticed, too, in subtle pantomime<br>She seemed to dust him off, from time to time;<br>And when somebody, later, asked if she<br>Had never heard the song before--'What! _me?_'<br>She said--then blushed again and smiled,--<br>'I've knowed that song sence _Adam_ was a child!--<br>It's jes a joke o' this-here man's.--He's learned<br>To _read_ and _write_ a little, and its turned<br>His fool-head some--That's all!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And then some one<br>Of the loud-wrangling boys said--'_Course_ they's none<br>No more, _these_ days!--They's Fairies _ust_ to be,<br>But they're all dead, a hunderd years!' said he.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Well, there's where you're _mustakened_!'--in reply<br>They heard Bud's voice, pitched sharp and thin and high.--</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'An' how you goin' to _prove_ it!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Well, I _kin_!'<br>Said Bud, with emphasis,--'They's one lives in<br>Our garden--and I _see_ 'im wunst, wiv my<br>Own eyes--_one_ time I did.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'_Oh, what a lie_!'<br>--''_Sh!_''</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Well, nen,' said the skeptic--seeing there<br>The older folks attracted--'Tell us _where_<br>You saw him, an' all _'bout_ him!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Yes, my son.--<br>If you tell 'stories,' you may tell us one,'<br>The smiling father said, while Uncle Mart,<br>Behind him, winked at Bud, and pulled apart<br>His nose and chin with comical grimace--<br>Then sighed aloud, with sanctimonious face,--<br>''_How good and comely it is to see<br>Children and parents in friendship agree!_'--<br>You fire away, Bud, on your Fairy-tale--<br>Your _Uncle's_ here to back you!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Somewhat pale,<br>And breathless as to speech, the little man<br>Gathered himself. And thus his story ran.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Whitcomb+Riley">James Whitcomb Riley</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416611" data-title="Floretty's Musical Contribution de James Whitcomb Riley" data-description="All seemed delighted, though the elders more,
Of course, than were the children.--Thus, before
Much interchange of mirthful compliment,
The story-teller said _his_ stories 'went'
(Like a bad candle) _best_ when they went _out_,--
And that some spr..."></div>
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