Open Daily: 10am - 10pm | Alley door pickup 10am - 7pm 3038 Hennepin Ave Minneapolis, MN
612-822-4611

  • Open Daily: 10am - 10pm
    Alley-side Pickup: 10am - 7pm

    3038 Hennepin Ave Minneapolis, MN
    612-822-4611

Open Daily: 10am - 10pm | Alley-side Pickup: 10am - 7pm
3038 Hennepin Ave Minneapolis, MN
612-822-4611
The Master's Violin

The Master's Violin

Reed, Myrtle

Paperback

Fiction Anthologies

ISBN10: 1542562597
ISBN13: 9781542562591
Publisher: Createspace
Published: Jan 15 2017
Pages: 196
Weight: 0.59
Height: 0.42 Width: 5.98 Depth: 9.02
Language: English
A Love Story with a musical atmosphere. A picturesque, old German virtuoso is the reverent possessor of a genuine Cremona. He consents to take as his pupil a handsome youth who proves to have an aptitude for technique, but not the soul of the artist. The youth has led the happy, careless life of a modem, well-to-do young American, and he cannot, with his meagre past, express the love, the longing, the passion and the tragedies of life and its happy phases as can the master who has lived life in all its fulness. But a girl comes into his existence, a beautiful bit of human driftwood that his aunt had taken into her heart and home; and through his passionate love for her, he learns the lessons that life has to give-and his soul awakens. Show Excerpt iving no encouragement from East Lancaster, had laid its tracks elsewhere. It was still spoken of as the time when, if you will remember, my dear, they endeavoured to ruin our property with dirt and noise. Her clothes are like her name, remarked Lynn. Whose clothes? asked Mrs. Irving, taken out of her reverie. That girl's. She had on a green dress, and some yellow velvet in her hair. Her eyes are purple. Violet, you mean, dear. Did you notice that? Of course--don't I notice everything? Come, mother; I'll race you to the top of the hill. Once again her objections were of no avail. Together they ran, laughing, up the winding road that led to the summit, stopping very soon, however, and going on at a more moderate pace. The street was narrow, and the houses on either side were close together. Each had its tiny patch of ground in front, laid out in flower-beds bordered with whitewashed stones, in true German fashion. There were no street lamps, for West

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