Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1883-02-22
Sf1istellameuns &eadiug.
HE TURNED AND RENDED THEM.
A CANDID MUSICAL CRITIC.

that night has between the hours of sunse
and sunrise. During those hours the SUI
rarely shines in our latitude, and night ha
everything its own way; with clear fielt
to itself.
Godfrey Stiehlpen sat at his table in tht
sanctum of the Mo,ming Thmdoree, his idlt
pencil in his listless fingers, and his aching
head resting upon one weary hand. The
solitary bell in distant steeple had JUS
tolled A. NJ. There was Il famine OF copy
on the hook, and the echo of the clamOa
of the ''cOmps" came nimbling in ghOstly
eadences down the speaking tube, and once
the sarcastic tones Of the toreman's voice
penetrated the dismal sanctum, conveying
to Mr.. Stiehlpen the entirely superfluou'
information that this "Was not an Afternoon
paper" and furthermore that he "WOult
like to go to press before the men went t.
dinner" Mr.. Stiehlpen sighed heavily
and in an distracted manner turned ovel
the closely written pages of his notebook.
For twenty-five years he had sat at that
table and praised everything that came
within fifty miles of ShawneetOwn. Horses
bird-dOgs, new houses, minstrel troupes
new goods, lectures, eminent citizens, big
radishes, tall corn, long jumps, speeches
brass bands, imported cows, fine waltZerS
new roads, wagons, fancy gates, concerts
fairs, hops and debating societies. He had
noted the uprising of the eminent citizen
and observed his lying down; he watched
his coming and going and tonight he was
weary. He had written up two speeches,
a social hop, a nine hundred dollar horse,
an imported pig, new fence, a big egg, a
seVenteen-pOund tunOr, a lecture, ana here
was a concert to be written up.
He knew what a delicate matter this was.
He knew what woe waited upon his foot-
steps if he failed to notice each performer
at length and in perfect detail. Wrath and
denunciatiOn lowered above his head, ready
to fall in one destroying deluge if he said
anybody sang played better than anybody
else. How could he meet the father of the
young lady who wore the expensive dress on
the stage, and yet got a notice four lines
shorter than the shOemaker's daughter who
had nothing in the world but her voice
to commend her to public notice?
How could he look Miss Uppercea in the
face when in his description of her exquis-
ite rendition Of "Monastery Bells'' he for-
got, or perhaps with malice aforethought,
| Intentionally omitted to mention the cost
of her diamonds?
He sighed as he remembered how often he
had been through all this, and here it was
one o'clock in the morning, his hand was
tired and his head ached, and his notes OF
his one hundred and eleventh concert were
still echoing in his brain and were waiting
on the pages Of his own notebook for his
own transcription. :,
He rose, and dragged from its dusty shelf
an old bound volume of the Mtm6Oree, look
ed over some of his old reports, with view
of changing the dates and names and using
them over, to save time and trouble As he
had often done before. But his head was
heavy, and the concert of the previous even
ing differed in SO many respects from all It's
predecessors that he was forced to abandon
his labor-saving scheme, so dear to the heart
of the ambitious and painstaking reporter
81 have praised people for twenty-five
years." he muttered, again seating himself
at his table, "and am tired OF it. am not
tell few truths. My longing soul aspires
to originality. l will write up these notes
in a style that will have at least the merit
of originality, and will please everybody
who doesn't find his name in the paper to-
morrow"
His pencil flew over the sheets of paper
like walking-match ; the sarcastic utter
ances of the foreman ceased, the distant
-camor Of the intelligent cOmpositors was
hushed, and only now and then the muttied
groans that came sadly down the speaking
tube told that some printer was trying to de-
eide whether a blot, long waving line,
|
Communion" ;" "incineratiOn," or "emanci-
patton" Mr.. Stiehlpen laughed hoarsely
as he heard the groans.
"Howl for copy will you ?" he chuc<led
dehantly. "pll give. you copy that will
make your heart sick"
Next morning, while Godfrey Stiehlpen
slept, the Idmd0ree was opened at a thou
sand happy breakfast tables, and before the
reader got to the concert notice, a few trifies
met their astonished gaze.
But the crowning glory of the -lo'"ihg
IUnlJOree was the concert notice. 1T read
as follows:
! LAST NIGHTS CONCERT.
The regular annual exhibition Of good
clothes and bad music that has grown to be
Il feature of the musical world in Shawnee
town, came off last evening at the opera,
house. Every seat in the hall was taken,
for our patient community has become ac-
customed to this atflictiOn, and submits to
it without murmur four or five times a
year, very much as they take quinine in the
spring.
Those people who came stamping in late,
as usual, after the Swawneetown style, are
to be congratulated this time, as they es.
"IIere in the Cool Grot." 1t is due to the
"Arion Quartette," however, to say it was
not the worst singing of the evening. The
audience thought it certainly would be the
worst and so, indeed it was, until later in
the evening the same quartette bOtched
"Come Where My Love Lies Dreaming"
1t was dreadful beyond description, and the
deafening applause which followed it only
testified the great Joy Of the audience on be-
ing assured that the "Arion Quartette''
would sing no more that evening.
Miss Abigail McGinnessy rendered reel
tative and aria, by Cappola, in the manner
that has long ago become so sadly famnlaf
to our suffering people, and isalWaysa source
of profound embarrassment to the acconlpa'
mist, who fiOundered along last night in the
patient but vain hope of getting even with
the singer somewhere by scrambling across
lots, and heading her off in some unusually
prolonged run. But this was Impossible
the singer and acc0npanist were neverWith
in six bars of each other during the whole
of the alleged performance. Mr.. POundaWa
the time honOred accompanist in all these at
fairs, by the way, did even worse than usua
last evening. We are panied to notice that
his habit of playing on the edge of the piano
two inches away from the keys, grows Upor
him, and he should either change his drink
or his vocation.
Mrs. Bangalon played "MonastcrS
Bells" as usual: 1t WAS disguised under !;
French name in the programme; but al
know what is coming after Mrs. BangalOl
finally gets the piano moved into precisely
the right place-which is always just where
it stood before she had it moved the frs
time-snd after seating herself for the ti1ti
eth time, finally concluded tOremain seated
Mrs Bangalon's unvarying habit OF wear
ING her gloves at the piano, and occupying
! seven minutes in removing them, ii no