Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1878-10-18

lives, anu tnelT property uhu Deen swept
away. He was an orphan-a beggar.
This calamity diverted the thoughts
Of ElieEar from the marchioness, and
set him thinking how he should hence
forth live. "To be or not to be-" as
has been remarked several thousand
times each year since it was penned, and
in this case the word "starved " was
| added. "No |" replied Eliezar to his
own question. "I will gain money"
This is an easy resolution, but one
difficult to carry into execution. Eliezar
was young-a poet, painter and mu-
sician. But the supply of verses is ever
above the demand-pictures do not find
sale, unless they are hattered portraits
and there are too many old composers
whose works can be pilfered, for young
ones TO have any chance of success.
Poor ElieEar There he sat, hour after
hour, his head resting on his hands, his
eyes fixed, and the pallor of melancholy
vailing his countenance. At last, an
idea struck him, Why could he not
sing in opera9
As luck would have it the manager of
the Toulouse opera house was then in
Paris, searching for tenor singer.
Elie2ar was presented to him-sang a
few airs-and in an hours time signed
| an engagement which guaranteed him q
handsome income. Two days more, and
he was at the scene of his anticipated
triumph, where he Immediately began
to study and TO rehearse. Possessing a
fine voice and good knowledge of
music, he made rapid progress, and was
soon announced in the papers as vocal
prodigy who would eclipse the famous
Duprez himself. At last the evening
came for his debut. The house was
packed from pit to dome, brilliant
toilettes gracing the aristocratic boxes,
while the students crowded the pit.
Many fair hands carried bouquets, and
it was evident that the debutdnt would
meet with fattering reception.
Up rose the curtain, and Eliezar ap-
peared. Loud applause greeted him,
and he advanced with easy confidence
to the front of the stage but not a
sound escaped his lips. In vain did the
leader of the orchestra, with violin bow
appraised, await the first note of his
voice, that he might accompany him.
Not sound was heard and the public,
at first curious, soon grew impatient.
Kisses, groans and other signs of dis
satisfaction rang through the house
and at last the curtain fell. Managers,
actors and machinists hocked around
the debutant, and demanded the cause
of his extraordinary silence.
The audience was indignant, and
among volley of boots and cries was
heard the question: "Is he dumb p
No The manager came before the cur
tain and announced that he had lost his
hearing. Whereupon the public retired,
receiving their money at the doors.
Alas. it was too true. Eliezar de
Blivels was deaf. All his dreams Of
vocal fame had vanished, and refusing q
collection which the actors had made for
him, he set out on foot for the capital.
almost hoping that some accident would
deprive him of life. He had but a pit
tance left, and his misfortune was bar
rier to all employments. One afternoon,
after long walk, he sat down before
village ale. house and began to sing.
The peasants gathered around him, and
some threw coppers into his hat. Ellie
Ear de Blivels, the great artist, who had
squandered so much gold, picked up the
coppers, and pocketed them with thanks,
Thus he made his way to Paris, sing
ing in the evenings at the little hamlets
where he halted, and receiving the pitt
full aims which the public pity accords
to wandering minstrela. Once within
sight of the capital, however, he took
courage. Paris is the city of catastro-
phes and of good fortunes-of revolu-
tions, happy or unhappy-and it is there
that one may be seen rolling along in
an elegant carriage, who the evening be-
fore had not whole pair of boots to
walk In, or vice vers0. On entering the
gates of the metropolis, the wandering
vocalist took heart, and he hoped he
might become bookkeeper to an apothe-
cary or measurer to wood merchant.
Passing down Odeon square, he saw
large man, dressed in black, who was
about to write upon the wall with
morsel of chalk. Watching the un-
known, he saw him write--and with
increasing astonishment as each success
sive letter was formed: "Eliezar de
Blivels is heartless."
Uttering cry of rage, he rushed for
ward and seized the writer quickly by
the shoulder. The unknown turned
fiercely around. shook off his grasp, and
retreating to the wall, used his cane to
ward off any further attack. Then,
with an air OF derision, he pulled out a
card, and offered it with his left hand.
Eliezar accepted it, and the unknown
vanished.
The artist, left alone before the in
scription, endeavored to efface it, but in
vain. The more he rubbed, the more
distinct the white letters stood out upon
the wall, and soon crowd collected
around him. Some recognized him, and
began to shout in derisive tones: "Elie-
Ear de Blivels is heartless." He was
forced at last TO desist, and to escape
from his tormentors.
At sunrise the next day two men
stood face to face, in the wood of Vim
cennes, near Paris. Each one was
armed with two pistols, and there were
no seconds. Vainly had Eliezar sought
TO obtain an explanation-the unknown
remained as glacial and mute as fatality.
The duelists placed themselves forty
PAGES apart, and at the word given by
Eliezar, they were to turn, advance to.
ward each other, and fire. One--two-
three Eliezar fired first. but only the
percussion cap of his pistol exploded.
At the same instant ball shattered his
right arm. and his pistol fell at his feet.
Then did the wounded man hear, in
tones which echoed through his heart :
"You have made me unhappy, but mark
me-you will be more unhappy your
SELF"
A second ball pierced Eliezar's heart.