Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1890-06-28
TWO NIeHTlNeALEs,
A Very Pretty story of Julia Grisl ana
Jenny Lind.

oN
Ihave read somewhere a little baliau
that tells a pretty story Of the famous
songstress, Jenny Lind. Many days,
months and years hayequite oolltera'eu
the verses from my memory, leaving
only the skeleton of the story to nutter
in my brain like an autumn leaf whicn
the summers winds had riddled II ROD
bed of its green. But shall Try tore-
nair the injured leaf with the poor
thread Of my simple prose. somewhere
in the forties Grisi and Jenny Lind were
singing in different places in LONDON
Those who went into ccstacies over
CRISIS ''Norma'' were the next evening
enraptured with Lind's 'Casta Diva
Great was the rivalry between them
Finally Queen Victoria, deeming 1t a
shame that two such gifted "omen
should be separated by a mean, tn
worthy jealousy, requested both to APP
pear at a court concert. Of course they
both came. The Queen warmly well
coined them together for the first time.
She rave the signal for the concert to
begin. Jenny Lind was the younger,
and it was arranged that she should
sing first. With perfect confidence
in her powers she stepped forward
to begin. CHANGING to glance at Grlsl'
S o saw the southern woman's ma
lignant gaze fixed on her. Tho herce
| look almost paralyzed her. Her courage
left her. her voice trembled, every thing
grew black before her and she almost
fell. by the greatest exertion OF her
will, however, she managed to finish her
aria. A painful silence followed its
conclusion-a silence that told her OF
her failure. She caught a triumphant
expression on Crisis face.
Despite her dazed condition, shequick-
ly realized that failure meant lostglory,
disappointed hope, the destruction OF
happiness, grief and modification to her
family and her friends. Suddenly a soft
voice that seemed to come from Heaven
whispered to her: Sing n Of your
old songs in your native language" She
Ndup Nv ~ II tiohBhV IA "h AhSP''e
tion. Tho accompanist was striking
his final chords, She stepped up to him,
asked him to rise, and took the vacant
seat. Softly her white fingers wandered
over the keys in a loving prelude, then
she sang. 1t was a little prayer which
she had loved as a child; it belonged to
her childhood's repertoire. She hadn't
sung it for years. AS she sang she was
no longer in the presence of royalty, but
singing to loving friends in her father
land.
Not n present understood ono word
of the prayer" Softly at first the
plaintive notes floated on the air, swell
ing louder and richer every moment,
The singer seemed to throw her whole
soul into that weird, thrilling, plaintivo
prayer" Gradually tho song died
away and ended in a soft sob. Again
there was silence-the silence of admir-
ing wonder. The audience sat spell,
bound. Jenny Lind lifted at last her
sweet blue eyes to look into the scorn'
full face that had so disconnected her at
first. There was no fierce expression
now; instead, a teardrop glistcned on
the long, black lashes. After a mo.
mcnt, with tho impulsiveness of a child
of the tropic, Grisi crossed to Jenny
Lind side, placed her arm about her ant
kissed her warmly, utterly regardless o
the admiring audience. milwaukee,
Wisconsin.