Ashtabula telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1874-1880, 1878-06-14
what is voice compared to a shapely pair

| AT lilS iOOt AlSulS SUOOQ young CEed
ture so delicately beautiful as to seen
| almost unreal. She was clad in a cloud
like dress of the purest white, revealing
the lovely contour of neck and breast
and the supple rOundneSs of arms. Th,
web OF bright hair was thrown back from
a low, sweet brow, and hoated as gold
en- veil down her back. Her eyes Wert
large, dark and luminous as stars.
"Can such a fragile creature as that
sing? questioned Madam Ponsetta, in q
whisper.
She glanced at the face of her brother
noticed he was pale as death and staring
at the cantatrice with a dazed, far away
expression. But before she had time tt
again address him there burst upon the
stiffness a gush of song that held MADAM
and indeed the entire house SPELL bound
1t was at the outset very soft, though
clear as a flute and had an uncertain
quivering, as that of bird warbIing fol
the first time In its little life. Then il
gradually rose to such tones of liquid
melody, so full and tender as to entrance
the ear Of every listener, and breaking
into sudden flights and soaring from
height to height.
She stood there, the sweet, beautiful
young songstress, forgetting the gaping
crowd, lost to all of criticism, conscious
only of a heaven-born power, with her
hands clasped upon her bosom, and sing
ing for the very love of it.
Every one sat wrapt and breathless.
Madam Ponsetta forgot to move her Jew
eled fan, and the Benefits neglected
their gossip. And when the song had
ceased, and the girl been led from the
stage, with her eyes sparkling as dia-
monds through tears, the well merited
applause came.
AJust think, Claude, of such a voice
being sacrificed to such an audience
Why it equals-MOn Dietl, what is the
matter? He has tainted"
The exclamation was uttered simulta-
neouslv with a like one from the box
occupied by the Benefits. Madam gave
some directions to her maid, Marie, (Who
sat at the rear of the box with her wraps, J
and instantly a glass of water was
brought. She saturated her handker-
chief, sprinkled the pallid face and very
soon her brother revived. Ia petite
dame p he muttered, not as yet himself.
"You are i'll, Claude. 1t is the bad air
let us retire" was answered.
He arose with an effort and gathered
strength, as the maid wrapped a shawl
about his sister. A few moments later
they were in the street, and for the re-
mafnder of the evening the Bennetts
could make their comments in the face
of the empty box.
"Bon nut, sister," said the Major, when
at the door of Madam's room.
"Wil you not come in, Claude, and
have biscuit and glass of wine? You
are looking very ILL"
mo, Pauline, only require air, SO will
take walk. Good night"
He went out and began pacing the 81
lent streets. His thoughts were busy
with the past. He was back again in Pa
ris, with its gardens, palaces and river
Seine. Memory travelled swiftly through
the shadows of dark street near the
Louvre, up a winding stair, which ended
upon balcony filed with flowers, open
ing into a long, low room, dingy and
gloomy, but frightened by the face of a
fair and young girl.
Her father was violinist at one of the
theaters, and Juniata the solace of his
lonely and barren life. 1t was she who
placed his great arm chair by the fire,
with his slippers, ready for his return,
and always remained up, no matter how
late the hour, to pour his wine and give
him a goodnight kiss.
And well did Claude Lavasuer remem-
bered the time when accident took him
to that humble home-the repeated Wis
its subsequently made, and the lingering
many hours while the father of Juniata
was at rehearsal; and how he became
companion and teacher to the young
creature until the dark eyes frightened
with glad welcome when he came, and
grew soft and humid with regret when
he departed, taking ever with him the
picture of her rare beauty, until she had
so grown upon him as to entirely fill his
heart.
Then came the rude awakening from
the pleasant dream. One day he found
not Juniata, but her father awaiting him.
II have sent my daughter away, Mon
sieur Iavasuer, that I may speak to you," !"
he said. "She is always sad now when
you are not here, and no longer like her
merry, jolly self,-is ever dreaming
Monsieur, have you ever spoken to her
of loveT
'Neverp exclaimed Lavaseur, indig-
nantly.
'Not with the lips Monsieur. All! no;
that were perhaps to bind yourself; but
there are thousand other ways. There
are tones of the voice more eloquent than
words, and glances of the eye more
powerful than mere speech"
Lavasuer stood silent and abashed
while the old man continued.
"You have won the love of my child
from me. She no longer greets me with
eager fondness, but flushes and pales
when your step sounds upon the stair, and
her heart beats quicker when she knows
you have come. I say to you, Monsieur,
that you must see my child no more, and
[ pray the Bon Dieu that she may forget
you"
''What if I would make her my wife%
ALTERED Lavasuer.-
From her station to thine she could
not be transplanted. She would be as a
Gagged bird, and your people would look
down upon her. No, you are rich and
noble-we poor and humble. Adieu,
Monsieur. May you be as happy as you
have made us miserable. Go your ways
[ command you"
That night sleep came not to Lavaseur.
Haunted by the vision of Juniata sorrow-
ng for him, heremained away for day.
Then his resolution was fixed. He could
not live without his little French violet.
She should be transplanted out of her lit
lie, unattractive home into his own beau
iful one, where she would bloom with
lew fragrance and loveliness.
He hastened to the house and up the
)ften trod stairs. Juniata had removed
III of her plants. Was she fearful OF
,arly frosts? The door was fastened,
md as he stood there with his hand upon
he latch the little, old concierge hob
Oled out and called to him that Monsieur
md his daughter had moved away, and |
t was vain to question. All he could as
certain was that they had gone-no one
new whittier.
These things foated through the MIND
# Lavasuer as he walked the streets that
light. He recalled, with a shiver, the |
bitterness of his disappointment and hls
many quests in search of the "lost violet |
lad dropped out of his life as star from |
he sky, leaving no trace. Even the or
hestra of the theatre at which the faith |
r had played, knew nothing of him.
And now when Lavasuer had given up |
u hope of ever finding her-had obtain
ID partial forgetfulness she had burst |
lpon him in this strange land and the |
most obscure place, and many were the |
questions he asked himself Should he |
enew the acquaintance She would |
all 1t uDwise and his aristocratic friends |
urn away with contempt.
At length he found himself opposite
he theatre. He would at least watch