ked in the wind. I heard the twitter of skimming swallows and the
scattered covey's piping call; I heard the robin's gay whistle, the
croaking of crows, the scolding of blue-jays, and the melancholy cooing
of a dove. The swaying tree-tops seemed vocal with bird-song while he
played, and the labyrinths of leafy shade echoed back the chorus. Then
the violin sounded the hunter's horn, and the deep-mouthed pack of fox
hounds opened loud and wild, far in the ringing woods, and it was like
the music of a hundred chiming bells. There was a tremor of the bow,
and I heard a flute play, and a harp, and a golden-mouthed cornet;
I heard the mirthful babble of happy voices, and peals of laughter
ringing in the swelling tide of pleasure. Then I saw a vision of snowy
arms, voluptuous forms, and light fantastic slippered feet, all whirling
and floating in the mazes of the misty dance. The flying fingers now
tripped upon the trembling strings like fairy-feet dancing on the
nodding violets, and the music glided into a still sweeter strain.
The violin told a story of human life. Two lovers strayed beneath the
elms and oaks, and down by the river side, where daffodils and pansies
bend and smile to rippling waves, and there, under the bloom of
incense-breathing bowers, under the soothing sound of humming bees and
splashing waters, there, the old, old story, so old and yet so new,
conceived in heaven, first told in Eden and then handed down through
all the ages, was told over and over again. Ah, those downward drooping
eyes, that mantling blush, that trembling hand in meek submission
pressed, that heaving breast, that fluttering heart, that whispered
"yes," wherein a heaven lies--how well they told of victory won and
paradise regained! And then he swung her in a grapevine swing. Young
man, if you want to win her, wander with her amid the elms and oaks,
and swing her in a grapevine swing.

"Swinging in the grapevine swing,
Laughing where the wild birds sing;
I dream and sigh for the days gone by,
Swinging in the grapevine swing."

[Illustration: "SWINGING IN THE GRAPEVINE SWING."]

But swiftly the tides of music run, and swiftly speed the hours;
Life's pleasures end when scarce begun, e'en as the summer flowers.

The violin laughed like a child and my dream changed again. I saw a
cottage amid the elms and oaks and a little curly-head toddled at the
door; I saw a happy husband and father return from his labors in the