Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1889-07-12

tended TO make on S1gnOr BertOnI, the
greatest singing-master in the city.
She started forth with so much
eagerness IN her manner that it at
tracted the attention of the people she
met, and many turned to look after
her; but AIadge needed them not. She
thought of but one thing-the desire of
her heart.
Upon reaching the house of the
great maestro, it was with fear and
trembling that she walked up the steps
and rang the bell. A servant admitted
her, and as she was ushered into the
presence Of SignOr Bertoni she could
scarcely control herself sufficiently to
utter word.
The kind-hearted old man, seeing
her discontinue, said:
Pray be seated, and tell me what I
can do for you, my girl.
Please, sir, said Madge, CT won
dered If / could sing, and I knew you
could tell me"
''Why, yes. my dear, certainly, GER
tainIy; we viii try
Madge, treasured by his kind man
ner, brought out a song she had with
her, and the very one she had heard
sung at Miss MarlbOro's the night be-
fore. She stood at his side as he
played it through, and then told her
to sing it. She sang, softly at first,
and then, gaining confidence as she
went along, her voice rang out in
clear. sweet tones that made the old
masters eyes sparkle.
''Well, well! My dear, what is your
name? ?" said he, when the song was
ended
'.Madge Bronson, sir"
Bronson Bronson, said he. CIV ere
you any relation to Ralph Bronson,
who met with such sad death some
years ago ?"
He was my father, sir," said
Madge.
'Iour father, Ell? Well, my dear,
let me tell you that you have inherited
from your father great genius and
wonderful voice.
ooh, sir, is it true? Can I really
sing? I am poor. How can I pay for
lessons ?"
do not let that trouble you, my
child. Many a favor has Ralph Bron-
son done for me. It Will afford me the
greatest pleasure to instruct you free
of charge. Come to me three times
week, and I shall consider myself we'll
paid by being allowed to present to the
world one of the most beautiful singers
it has known in many a day. You
have a fortune in your voice, my girl. "
Madge could scarcely believe she
was herself, as she left the house. She
seemed to be walking on air, so bright
and beautiful did everything appear to
her. She could work nOw-yes, gladly,
jOyfully-fOr every stitch would carry
a song, and thus the little room that
was but yesterday the home of Madge
Bronson, the seamstress, became in
one night the abode of one who was
destined to soon startle the world by
her great and wonderful talent.
Two years rolled away, and Madge
was preparing to make her debut. The
social season was at its height when
the announcement was made that on
certain evening there was to be pre-
scented to the world a new star. Faint
rumOrs of a poor girl pupil of Der
toni, filed the air, and the rich and
fashionable world prepared to do hom-
age to our poor little seamstress.
When the night arrived, the great
theater was filed with eager listeners.
How those wonderful tones rang
through the building She forgot her
self and where she was, and only knew
her song. 1t swelled forth grandly,
then died away like some distant bell.
For moment not a sound was heard
The people seemed afraid to stir Then
laundering applause shook the build
ing; handkerchiefs and fans were
waved; flowers few through the air,
and nearly all stood, so intense was
their excitement She came to the
front and stood there, a veritable queen
of song. Her triumph was complete.
Rot i.
turned upon her, one pair watched her
with curious interest. In a box at the
right sat George Courtney gazing at
the singer with strange fascination.
Could he be mistaken? The face so
indehbly stamped upon his mind was
the same, and yet how could it be pos
slbIe that this great and gifted lady
was the girl he had seen on the stairs
at Miss MarlbOrO's, two years ago? To
be sure he had heard the report that
had gained circulation Of the former
poverty Of this beautiful sOngstress.
He could not rest till he found out. He
would go to BertOni and ask for her
history. For two years her face had
haunted him, and although he scarcely
acknowledged it to himself, a feeling of
longing and unrest had taken hold of
his heart. Wealthy and cultured, many
laid siege to that heart, which, so far,
had remained impenetrable; but he
was on the verge of losing it now; and
Madge, all unconscious of the commO-
ton she was causing in one breast, sang
herself more and more into his heart.
As she finished, she saw thrown from
one of the boxes little bud which fell
at her feet. She glanced up, smiled,
bowed, and Withdrew.
The papers next day rang with her
praises. Her name was on every
tongue. Dinners and receptions were
planned in her honor. She became
the rage. MeanwhiIe. GEORGE COurte-