(seq. 78)

May 5, 1942

Dear Mr. Pillar:

In coming to give us these Sunday concerts you bring
to us beauty, such as is scarcely dreamt of in the dreary
grind of daily life.

When you play for us "The Blue Danube" we see it
gleaming, tossing proud and gay, the black forest sweeping
up from its banks, away up, dark, mysterious, sheltering
in its enchanted depths all the little dwarfs and pixies
and elves whom we knew and loved in childhood when Grimm
and Anderson laid the foundation of our dreams.

You draw your bow softly across the strings - Ah, there
is a little door opening into the side of a green hill, a
little fellow scampers through, tosses his feathered cap
towards us and is gone forever.

The music ends, we are back in Framingham, but you
have given us a glimpse of lost horizons, beauty, romance,
the freedom which music alone may bring.

And when you appear at heaven's gate, dear Mr. Pillar,
I think St. Peter will swing it wide open for you, seize
his harp and say "music Maestro Please".

Anne Markey.