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CANXDIA
I N HOME iounwm.

BY EVA

iLLUSTRA1|oNs

B

CALDEn

Y REX wooos

She your ¢:|I|=l<lY
his fut flnl.

but Curtis Punbuiaa Wu 0"
"M" I accompany you?"

Ks

SONG or BOHE/\/HA

'"L'I'ke Antoniua‘s mother is of
him. Her mother spoke half to
herself.

Blanche drew hack and shook her
hflfidt "He is a genius, He used
to say that he was going to be a great
violinist and he is." Her brown eyes
grew reminiscent. "He always gut
what he went alter." She i)l\.|Hl‘iI’:d,
then added in a matter-of-fact tone,

:I‘hey.say New York is mad about
him since he’s come hack from
Vienna."

"Yes I know. We got word to-
dfly that he'd he able to come and
play at the Festival," her mother
announced proudly.

Blanche turned to hide the tell-tale
colour that she {cit surge up from her
toes. “It's getting late." She glanced
at her watch. "I must get my songs.
Mrs. Armytage will want me to sing."

HE knocked a crocheted tidy oi]
‘ a chair as she brushed by to the
piano. Absent-mindediy she sorted
her music and breathed nsigh oi’ relief
when her mother withdrew. Why had
she blushed at the mention of Anton-
iun Schukoisksi Her face grew hot.
The last time she had seen him had
been before he leit with his Uncle
to study in Europe—his last day at
school. The teacher had gone out of
the room for an instant hut in that
instant Antoniun had jumped up.
thrown his arms around her and kissed
her. Into the paralyzing silence had
walked the teacher. Bianche's four-
teenayear-ald being bad prayed for the
floor to open and swallow her. but
Antonina sat unconcerned as ever»
A huge figure, white race and sleepy
dark eyes topped by a mass oi‘ black
hair. She would never forget it even
though it had happened six years ago.
Blanche picked up some songs and
slipped them into her music case.
And she would never forget Anton~
iun's playing. At fifteen he had
swayed the whole school. Once he
drew his bow acrotu his violin he
opened up a new world to his listeners
while he himself seemed to become
part of the pulsating rhythm.
it was all right for him to come and
play at the Festival. He was a Bo-
hemian. She snapped her music cast-
shut. She was tired oi‘ hearing about
this Festival. New Canadian they
called it. For weeks her mother and
relations had talked oi‘ nothing else.
In fact. all the Bohemians of the city
had been coming to her mother to
discuss what they woidd put in the
iiantlicrait exliihlt. You would think
Aunt Sophie's crocheted hetisprcati
was one of the st-vt-a wonders oi‘ the
world. And the way they dt-bated
over the songs and ioiit-dant\>sA
Which would best rcproscnt Bo-
hemia? Was it possible that the
uther natiutmiities wore making such
a fuss about their contributions?
Blanche stand up and carefully
put on her white coat. She gitzcd at
the rellcction of her white tigure in the
hall mirror through the door~wu_\’.
She iooitcd every inch in Canadian
and she was«c\'eu to her name
which she had changed from hiajana
Moilu to its English equivalent
Blanche Small. She pinL=ed—Her
mother said in Buiwmian. Biajana
meant happiness. The door-bell
buzzed. She caught up her music
case and hurried to answer it.

ALF an hour later seated at
Mrs. :\rmytagc's table a ieelinr
of delight ran over Blanche. Centred