Tales From Two Hemispheres | Page 8

rest to the wearied eye. Wherever he
looked he saw his shabbily attired figure repeated in the long crystal
mirrors, and he became uncomfortably conscious of his threadbare coat,
his uncouth boots, and the general incongruity of his appearance. With
every moment his uneasiness grew; and he was vaguely considering the
propriety of a precipitate flight, when the rustle of a dress at the farther
end of the room startled him, and a small, plump lady, of a daintily
exquisite form, swept up toward him, gave a slight inclination of her
head, and sank down into an easy-chair:
"You are Mr. ----, the Norwegian, who wishes to give music lessons?"
she said, holding a pair of gold-framed eyeglasses up to her eyes, and
running over the note which she held in her hand. It read as follows:
DEAR MARTHA,--The bearer of this note is a young Norwegian, I
forgot to ascertain his name, a friend of Olson's. He wishes to teach
music. If you can help the poor devil and give him something to do,
you will oblige, Yours, H. V. K.
Mrs. Van Kirk was evidently, by at least twelve years, her husband's

junior, and apparently not very far advanced in the forties. Her blonde
hair, which was freshly crimped, fell lightly over her smooth, narrow
forehead; her nose, mouth and chin had a neat distinctness of outline;
her complexion was either naturally or artificially perfect, and her eyes,
which were of the purest blue, had, owing to their near-sightedness, a
certain pinched and scrutinizing look. This look, which was without the
slightest touch of severity, indicating merely a lively degree of interest,
was further emphasized by three small perpendicular wrinkles, which
deepened and again relaxed according to the varying intensity of
observation she bestowed upon the object which for the time engaged
her attention.
"Your name, if you please?" said Mrs. Van Kirk, having for awhile
measured her visitor with a glance of mild scrutiny.
"Halfdan Bjerk."
"Half-dan B----, how do you spell that?"
"B-j-e-r-k."
"B-jerk. Well, but I mean, what is your name in English?"
Halfdan looked blank, and blushed to his ears.
"I wish to know," continued the lady energetically, evidently anxious to
help him out, "what your name would mean in plain English. Bjerk, it
certainly must mean something."
"Bjerk is a tree--a birch-tree."
"Very well, Birch,--that is a very respectable name. And your first
name? What did you say that was?
"H-a-l-f-d-a-n."
"Half Dan. Why not a whole Dan and be done with it? Dan Birch, or
rather Daniel Birch. Indeed, that sounds quite Christian."

"As you please, madam," faltered the victim,; looking very unhappy.
"You will pardon my straightforwardness, won't you? B-jerk. I could
never pronounce that, you know."
"Whatever may be agreeable to you, madam, will be sure to please
me."
"That is very well said. And you will find that it always pays to try to
please me. And you wish to teach music? If you have no objection I
will call my oldest daughter. She is an excellent judge of music, and if
your playing meets with her approval, I will engage you, as my
husband suggests, not to teach Edith, you understand, but my youngest
child, Clara."
Halfdan bowed assent, and Mrs. Van Kirk rustled out into the hall
where she rang a bell, and re-entered. A servant in dress-coat appeared,
and again vanished as noiselessly as he had come. To our Norseman
there was some thing weird and uncanny about these silent entrances
and exits; he could hardly suppress a shudder. He had been accustomed
to hear the clatter of people's heels upon the bare floors, as they
approached, and the audible crescendo of their footsteps gave one
warning, and prevented one from being taken by surprise. While
absorbed in these reflections, his senses must have been dormant; for
just then Miss Edith Van Kirk entered, unheralded by anything but a
hovering perfume, the effect of which was to lull him still deeper into
his wondering abstraction.
"Mr. Birch," said Mrs. Van Kirk, "this is my daughter Miss Edith," and
as Halfdan sprang to his feet and bowed with visible embarrassment,
she continued:
"Edith, this is Mr. Daniel Birch, whom your father has sent here to
know if he would be serviceable as a music teacher for Clara. And now,
dear, you will have to decide about the merits of Mr. Birch. I don't
know enough about music to be anything of a judge."
"If Mr. Birch will be kind enough to play," said Miss Edith with a

languidly musical intonation," I shall be happy to listen to him."
Halfdan silently signified his willingness and followed the ladies to a
smaller apartment which was separated from the drawing-room by
folding doors. The apparition of the beautiful young girl who was
walking