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THE MUSIC TRADE REVIEW
duties of several instruments, such as will
come with a need of their use in various
keys; or a cousin or two in the same family
that has been added because the composer
has scored for it. All the strings are but
big and little violins, made in three kinds,
with several that used to be in scores now
dropped out. The great double bass is
but a big violin. The violin is but a little
double bass. The violoncello, even now a
"little violin" by comparison with its tall
and bulky brother, still keeps the diminu-
tive that hints of the violone, the great
viol. From flute to the bassoon (which is,
by the by, seldom loud albeit Coleridge's An-
cient Mariner [seems to have thought it so)
all is flute. From trumpet to bass trombone
or burly tuba all is a trumpet—great or
small. The supplementary instruments,
such as the piccolo, the English horn, the
basset horn, the double bassoon, the contra-
bass trombone, or its like tuba, the rarely
borrowed ophicleide—these do not spoil the
family likeness nor mix the orchestra's
genial genealogy. They rather enhance it,
when Wagner or Berlioz, Brucker or
Tschaikovsky invites them in. Each of
the four groups owns its beautiful and
peaceable cousinship, and that it is, after
all, of the same stuff—string, wood, brass,
or what not. Tubes are of different sizes;
some are played from the end, others from
the side; their organisms are not wholly
identical; but they are close akin.
So our orchestra proves to be no such
absolutely mixed and unrelated an army of
sound, after all. And it is possibly grace-
fully allegorical in the fact that all its kins-
folk, unless accidentally unstrung or over-
heated, represent harmony itself.
©
RECENT CONCERTS.
Mme. Melanie De Wienzkowska gave a
concert at Mendelssohn Glee Club Hall on
the evening of Feb. 4th. The program
was varied and interesting, embracing
numbers by Bach-Tausig; Chopin; Schu-
mann; Paderewski; Moskowski; Gluck-
Saint-Saens; Rubinstein; Leschetizky and
Liszt. Mme. Wienzkowska's reading of
these numbers was admirable; her playing
showed brilliancy of execution, ease of
technique, and a sympathetic temperament.
The audience was highly appreciative.
©
The second concert of the New York
Institute for Violin Playing and Piano
and Vocal Culture, which occurred on the
evening of Jan. 26th, was as usual interest-
ing and successful. The opening number
was a quartet in F minor, Op. 30, for piano
and strings by Herman Carri which gave
undoubted evidence of this talented com-
poser's ability both in originality of theme
and cleverness of arrangement.
Mr. Ferdinand Carri played in his inimi-
table style the first movement from Vieux-
temps' grand concerto in F major and
Paganini's "Ditante Palpeti" on the
violin. Mr. Paul Petri sang vocal num-
bers by Schumann and Gounod very
charmingly indeed. The concert, which
was a delightful one throughout, closed
with Jadassohn's quintette in C minor.
AN IDYL OF THE STREET.
"One man in his time plays many parts,"
says Shakespeare, and the spirit of the
remark is sometimes just as true as the
scenes we see upon the street.
" Maxwelton's braes are bonnie
Where early fa's the dew."
A cracked and worn voice began to sing,
accompanied by the wheezy notes of an old
hand organ, small and like "sweet bells,
out of tune." It was only the old blind
man begging at the corner of Bohemia, and
the crowed moved hurriedly on.
" It was there that Annie Laurie
Gave me her promise true."
And now a woman's voice, quavering
and uncertain with age, joined in the
strains.
" And ne'er forgot 'twill be
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I would lay me down and dee."
The old man played wearily on, while
the woman, tanned and travel-stained,
stood by his side and held the little mcney
box in her hand. Ah me, how busy people
were! The meek, untuneful pathos of
those poor voices rose and fell, but no one
paused. Still as they sang the tender love
song, the woman's quavering notes grew
strangely sweet and her furrowed cheeks
were wet with tears.
touched the faithful face with a still look
of peace. But when her husband played
another air her voice rang high above his,
sweet and clear:
" One sweetly solemn thought
Comes to me o'er and o'er:
I'm nearer hame to-day
Than I have been before.
She finished the verse and upon her
trembling lips the noble hymn lost none of
its meaning or dignity. " Come, Jimack,
dearie," she whispered at its close. " I t ' s
growing cold and dark; we must be going
now." She led him a few steps with pati-
ent care, then turned and leaned a moment
on his breast. " J e a n , " he cried, " J e a n ,
my bonnie lass, my wife! "
But there was no reply; for she alone,
with him, had gone to her " lang hame."—
Town Talk.
©
HAMILTON S. OORDON.
We take pleasure in presenting herewith
the counterfeit presentment of a gentleman
who has long been identified with the mu-
sical development of New York—Mr. Ham-
ilton S. Gordon, the popular music pub-
lisher and manufacturer of pianos, mando-
lins and guitars.
THE HEWYORft
D
"For bonnie Annie Laurie."
The busy city streets seem changing now
and melting into fields and wooded lanes.
She sees the nodding clover, red and white,
the blue-bells, and the small house low
roofed and painted by the frost and sun,
where all her happy, youthful days had
passed. She feels the soft breeze lift the
tresses from her brow, but does not think
of them as thin and white, for borne upon
the tide of song, the years of pain and dis-
appointment seem to drift away and leave
her a " braw lass " again in all the glorious
promise of "love's young dream.
It is growing late. The rose light
deepens in the western sky. She hears
the collier lads come singing on their
homeward way and knows full well that
one will leave their ranks and swing along
the path till he reaches her—his Jean
How handsome he is, and strong; How
fair where his flesh gleams through the
coal grime on his throat and arms—her
bonnie laddie Jimack;
" John Anderson, my Jo John."
The old man sings again, but she is silent
now and slips down close beside him on
her knees and lays one toil-worn hand
upon his arm. Her tired blue eyes look
out on changefull scenes and little chubby
faces flit before her sight. Wee hands
touch her on^brow and breast, then fade
away. She sees her Jimack now as, grave
and earnest-eyed, he binds a knapsack on
his coat of blue. She lives again those
three dread years of alternating hope and
fear, then goes one morning down the
pebble path to meet the maimed and
sightless soldier and to lead him home.
Oh, the years—the years; Two slender,
swordless hands to fight the fierce, unyield-
ing battle for their lives.
It seemed so good to rest awhile, to rest.
Her gray head dropped against his shabby
and torn coat; a ray from the gas light
UBLId LIBRARY
ASTOR, LEN»X AND
TILDEN FOUNDATIONS.
HAMILTON S. GORDON.
In Mr. Gordon's magnificent emporium
on Fifth avenue and Twentieth street can
be found a line of publications both domes-
tic and foreign which should well interest
the musician desirous of procuring care-
fully edited and neatly printed works.
Mr. Gordon looks upon labor as a tonic.
He is always at his desk directing the man-
agement of his immense business, but yet
he never fails to find time to encourage'the
ambitious amateur or "help out" the
worthy musician who wishes to get "a
hearing" from the musical public.
The musical department of the Gordon
house is under the efficient management of
Mr. Theo. Hamel, who is virtually an ency-
clopaedia- on matters musical, and a chat
with Mr. Hamel, or his chief is well worth
a visit at any time to this well known mu-
sic publishing establishment.
©
Mme. Teresa Carreno made her first ap-
pearance in Chicago last Saturday night,
and the favorable impression created in
New York was duplicated. Her first recj
tal in Chicago will occur this evening