The Dillon tribune. [volume] (Dillon, Mont.) 1881-1941, 1886-07-10

/ a quick inspiration, he would take up thc
phrase himself ut the right place: and the
/ beautiful melody rolled ont, light and 10Y
ous-leaping. intoxicated with laughter
the deep voice of the taverlt-keep"r: the
pretty outbursts OF \icette.
! And when the last note had flown away,
two cries intercrossed through the silence:
"Mariani.'
"Eugenie Danton. Come up.
/ And the musician rushed up the stair
way like the wind:
| The old woman was waiting for him
upon the landing. He reached it almost
reeling--;ll pale with the intense joy tina;
strained lit his heart-and fell sobb,i. Into
the arms held o,lt to him. What Il long,
long kiss she gave him. She took tn.
poor Il. fellow. head in her hands; an'!
WITH !. swee, hearts fonalng. h~" lip,
from. the singers eyes to his lips, from his
forehead to his white hair 10" happy 10
speak they looked each other in the face.
. and at last could find no;iiing IT, say but
one phrase, which they repeated over and
over again:
"What!-is it really thee:"
Thc,, as if to console each other for their
mutual dccrepitude, they murlnured, al
most at the same time:
"rllou hast not aged SO much after ALL"
And yet their embarrassed manner
seemed to give the lie to what their lips
affirmed. Then u great pain, succeeding
IT, the first joy Ut meeting, strangled the
words in each throat: the man glanced
:urtivcly at the poor dress Of the pretty old
woman, and the chill poverty OF the cham
Der: >h" on the other hand, could not take
her eyes away from tie wretched tatters
OF her friend. They had sat down together
beside each other. hand in hand; and she,
ut last, embarrassed by that silence, preg-
n,nt with gloomy thought, vcnt,lrc,l to
cxclaim:
ooh! What condition find thee in,
n,y poor Mariani!'
lie smiled II painful smile, and said:
Yes: it is not brilliant! Times are hard;
one must live, and | must sing in the
co,'rts and alleys: now sing for = coppers
the songs that folks once paid = louis to
hear. struggled long time; wore out
the little voice left me upon the stages Of
the most obscure theatres. Ii the ascent
TO glory is rapid the descent is almost as
sudden: fell from disiilusioE t. disil!u-
sion, into misery and hunger live now
upon the bread flung to me. How we
WAIST our good luck while it lasts! But
thuu--what hast thou become: Has life
dealt as harshly with thee AS with me-"
The old woman did not answer: with
one droll gesture she called his attention
to the naked room, the curtuinless Win
dow. the narrow bed Of iron. the few fr;lil
chairs.
"See and Judge! My last ad,nrer be-
queathed me Ill this splendor, and Il little
revenue of 1000 livres. live On that
alone and forgotten. All. why did ever
leave thee: How happy we might have
been! loved thee SO much!-Duu-l was
;. woman
The old woman's broken voice borrowed
from her heart new tenderness OF tone as
she mor,rned the happiness forever lost.
We held our happiness in our own
hands, he answered: hut we opened then.
and let it fly away, Why did love an
y, her.".
And both, in chorus, repeated the query
ayes, why!"
They held tn cir peace again: one NIGH;
have thought that they We're reading, in
their memories. the blotted pages vi the
past: doubtless both saw themselves again
in fancy upon the stageeuf the Opera COM
iquc. he rs the tavern keeper of the Pre-
aux Clercs, in his fine maroon coat with
=
| in her role of bride. Then, as now, hand
in hand they advanced to the footlights
| Their clear young voices guslled out in
merry melody: the public overwhelmed
| them with applau>e: the men ruureil
bravo the women flung their gifts upon
HE stage-tiuwers and ribbons.
! "Adieu must co. have not yet earned
my bre.kfast!' the guitarisJ suddenly eA-
claimed, rising up.
| The old woman had also risen; rs he
aeared the door She wrapped him in her
arms
"Renlain!' she said: "what is enough for
one will suit for two: should we get very
hungry we can sing Renlain!''
| He hesitatetl-afraid vi allowing himself
,o understand
Remain she said. Il am not one OF
those tlesparing people who see nothing
before them but grief ant: pain. Life is
sweet when we love: and we love, do we
not, Mariani:'
there, the indiscreet witness Of her ,lnhap
pinrss. the old woman shut her window
hut not 50 that couh! not long after heal
| their voices. singing in unison the Ce!e
i!ratetl ballad:
"The memories Of youth
Are enSraveE OH my heart"
George Dampt --Times-D Democrat Trans
Tho Home Of the Floods.
Miss Jennie Floods chamber is Il coun-
terOart of that of Narie AntOinpttp all til.