The Argosy — page 324: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

306 The Baths of Gastein. the passage outside. Then the door was stealthily unlatched, and sounds of an unknown music vibrated through the room. Listening for a moment I tried to recognize the instrument, but in vain. It was neither like the violin nor the harp, and yet somewhat resembled both. At last I thought of the zither, of which I had heard so much: thein- . strument of the Tyrolese peasantry which they handle with so much effect. I went to the door and there sat Sebastian, the houseman, as he was called, his face a broad ripple of smiles, his zither before him on a table. He was doing his best to draw forth sweet sounds from the strings but the instrument was old and crazy and had been untouched for years. Sebastian was a fine type of the peasantry ; a handsome, well made man, with iron-grey hair, and a sparkle still in his eye. In his younger days he had been expert with the instrument; foremost in the dance; but, as he said, he and his zither had alike grown old: they had had their day : his fingers were stiff and the strings rotten. But he had heard that I was fond of music, and with that kindly spirit so innate in the Tyrolese, had plucked up his courage, and drawn forth his zither from - its long abode—its many years’ tomb. He tried to play out a few airs, and some of the dances still lurking since the days of his youth, when he was chief amongst them ; and managed to give an idea of what the instrument in skilled hands would be capable of producing. Every tune had its story. His stock exhausted he jumped up, and with a shake of the head at his zither, and a mutter that it was time he and his instrument were out of the way, he abruptly disappeared. Later on I obtained a better idea of the capabilities of the zither. I was speaking about it one morning to the doctor, and asking his opinion of the instrument. ‘The zither!” he replied: ‘there is but one opinion about it. If you want to be scientific, go to Beethoven : but if you are seeking music to touch the heart and draw tears from the eyes, listen to the zither.” ‘Can so simple an instrument do this ?” I asked. ‘Yes; by virtue of its simplicity. The most simple things come nearest home to us. There is a watchmaker lives in Gastein during the season: to hear him play the zither is a treat to be remembered. I will get him to come in some evening.” By reason of which a few nights further on about eight o’clock, a small ceremonious tap at the door ushered in. the “Zitherman.” He bowed profoundly on first appearing, and again in the middle of the room, with an amount of dignity that would have graced a court. He was tall, good-looking, and superior to his station: a mind well cul- tivated : had read much, and was evidently of a romanticturn. But it was impossible to determine whether he was perfectly unconscious of self, or inordinately vain or conceited. COMIC OOOKS. EO —_) in