The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1884-02-29

, saw Carts m8nuscr.Dts upon the tabl
inviting the inspection Of a brothe
musician. He looked them througl
with a critical eye-songs. caprices
nsorceaur de salon. the score Of Carl
treasured "Abelard and Heloise," and
most important of all, the unfnishe,
symphony of which the young man ha,
such high hopes. He glanced over tn
neatly written pages and turned with
plying look toward the bed where tn,
sufferer lay, unconscious, but with hi,
.pallid face illumined by smile, as If
even now, he was dreaming of the tri
umph that was to be his.
''Ah! my poor boy" muttered Giu
seppe, sit will be too late. There i
but week before the judges must de
clare the victor, and you must lie herr
long after the decision is given. Ever
were it finished, this would not win
My brave lad, there are older head.
than yours and some famous names
among the competitors for the media
and the purse.
He paused, looked long at tho young
man upon the bed. Suddenly his
face lit up as if with an inspiration
Seating himself at the table. he drew
toward him the score of Carl's work
and the sheets of barred paper that la.
invitingly with it. He worked all that
day and far into the night. The sunrise
of next morning found him still at the
table. his pen travelling rapidly over the
paper, as tie ideas of melody and har.
mOny came to the brain faster than the
hand could register them.
That morning there was a soft Ia D al
the door. and when Giuseppe opened i,
there stood Lottchen.
..My Carl! My brave Carlr' she
cried. .'Oh, n,eister! why did you keep
this from me?"
The musician silenced her with a gest-
ure and pointed to the bed. With q
little gasp of fright the young girl
knelt bes dc her wounded and uncon-
s:.ous lover.
ale does not know me-his Lottchen,
who loves him so much!'' she sobbed.
sch. Fuselli! will he die? Tell me
that he will soon be we'll and strong
own CARL"
'.No." said the old man. s.he will not
die. The worst is over now, and we
shall soon give him back to you again. :"
Thank the dear God for that" said
the 6 RI, p;ously. "And the prizes that
:aI so surely would have won-ah,
row it will be too late. Pow grieved
he Will be! We must wait now for
smother year-Carl and l."
''Do not fear ] will send the score
to the judges There is but page or
two 10 add, ana it shall be sent in am
pie time, promise YOU"
''How good you are, dear Fuselli!
Carl snd will always bless you, and
every ght I will remember you in my
pra, ers;" and with a parting kiss upon
her betrothed pale face, Lottchen de-
parte'l. Her heart was light and her
face smiling and happy, for was not
Carl TO be well soon, and his symphony
10 be finished, too? All! that would
surely win!
Another day and evening the old man
his patient ard worked ut h
labor of love and gratitude. Then he
aid down his pen and said softly:
There. my Carl; your symphony is
finished and in time in ample time"
He went to the piano and played the
work through to the end.
When its last strains died away, he
vas tempted sorely to break his resoiu-
ion and to try for the prize in his own
behalf; but the thought flashed only an
instant Though his mind and was ban
shell by a weak voice which asked:
What hot 60 Lot vNknx
\ divine composition"'
1T is your own, my boy" answered
Fuselli. "Your 'Siegfried symphony.
was ust about to send it to the judges
Nay you have the fortune to winr'
"Ah! / RENE mber." said Carl; and
he really thought the music his own,
lalf forgo ten in his fever and delirium.
But few days had passed when a
packet with portentous seals and i'm
posing exterior was left for Herr Carl
Nerther. 1t was a letter telling him
hat his "Siegfried symphony was
he composition to which the judges
unanimously awarded the grand pri e
he medal and the purse. The Emperor
lad heard the symphony and was en-
husiastic in its praise. The art world
If Berlin talked of nothing but the
triumph o. the new aspirant.
"A German undoubtedly; and yet the
music of 'Siegfried' is thoroughly
Italian"
So said a brother musician to Giuseppe.
But the old man kept his secret, looking
It Lottchen and Carl in their new-fouud
happiness, and saying to himself: 1t is
or :heir sakes. l am content"
One morning there was 4 knock at
he street-door of Giuseppe's lodging,
md letter was handed to the good
lame who responded.
'.For Giuseppe Fuselli,' said the
messenger.
"Ah! 1 will take it to him." ex-
claimed LOttchen, who had come to
axe Ter morning lesson. aud she
FOUNDED lightly up the stairs, hoping
hat she might be the bearer of good
Jews.
She knocked twice. There was no
answer. So she entered the poor little
DOM.
Fuselli was reclining over his piano,
lis face buried in his hands. She
ouched him gently on the shoulder.
There was no response. One hand fell
imp and heaSy to his side, disclosing
lis face. and the young girl knew that
he stood in the presence of death. He
Who had aspired SO grandly, whose
alents the world had refused to own,
vas far from the strife for fame, which
With him had been changed to struggle
or existence.
Lottchen tore open the envelope.
The letter was brief one, and it was !
igned by the Herr Director of the
loyal Opera House. 1t read:
&c usepps Fuselli: Werther has re-
igned because OF the success of his |
york. Your playing has always. been
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