The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1893-02-26
Wagner is daily fare.' Aud the speaker
drew long breath as of regret for past de-

Wagner is daily fare' Aud the speaker
drew q long breath as of regret for past de-
lights.
"If you musical people really enjoy
Wagner and all the rest. as you
then it must be that am lacking in
necessary sense. for, as a rule. the'concord
of sweet sounds we hear so much about 10
beyond my comprehension. Through much
repetition simple tunes become so
familiar TO me thatI recognize them. but
/ couldn't whistle or sing the simplest OF
them through correctly. Grand opera has
no attractions for me. and wagner Is
clangor of sound"
What You lack is cultivation in the
art of music" interrupted the pianist.
'Yonr ear needs training. Once get to
know what gooo music Is. and what 1t
means. and you will appreciate It."
"Well but there Is this queer thing" an
swered the unmusical man: 81 don't care
for music; wouldn't. of my own accord, 60
out of my way TO hear IL; in nine cases out
of ten the best and worst of 1t are alike
an unmitigated bore to me-but the tenth
time, Obligations to society and to musical
member of my family take me now and then
to concerts. and at long intervals / hear
something that seems worth while
When the Thomas orchestra plays Schu'
mans 'Traumerap isn't that it'll all the
beautiful things that life was to bring are
pictured before me as in my youthful days;
all the high hopes exist again. and realiza-
and faith. and love untsrnlshed are mine
once more. and could have the players 60
on forever. Don't say that cultivation
would give me more out OF the 'Traumerar
than that. l don't believeit. Some of the
things Remenyi plays what things I
havn't the faintest idea now thrill and
move me words could not. A piano
commonly meaningless to me. but when
Pschman played Chopin tears came.
Emma Thursby sang a ballad once. years
ago. that / remember yet; q male quartet
In Boston church choir opened to me the
very gates of heaven. Gould they have done
more had my ear been cultivated"
The musician looked meditatlve. but did
not answer. i
The young matron wore discouraged ex-
preston. There is no use talking. L can't
keep up with current literature. With my
housekeeping and my babies. and the social
obligations simply can's avoid, have no
time left for reading beyond q glance at
the morning paper. and half hour with q
light novel when / am too tired
to think of anything else. I used
to pride myself on knowing all
about the new books and magazines,
and In that way, i suppose, established q
reputation for intellectually which find
1t hard to live mp TO. My friends. the most
and when ! am with them begin to feel
rusty and behind the times. They talk SO
Knowingly OF the latest poem, by some.
body whose name hardly know. and the
newest novel by that delightful so and so,'
whose name L never heard before" that
appear quite out of date in my ignorance.
Let me giveyou pointer. my dear mad
am" said a masculine friend to whom these
woes were poured out, and who had a repu-
utation for great intellectual depth. ut is
impossible for every one to read everything.
1t Is just as well. anyway. In most cases. to
be told what book is about as to read it.
Get a periodical that reviews all the new
publicatIOns-there are q dozen such; read
the criticisms and then read an occasional
book. just as you do now. It is better to
choose something that every body is not
likely to take up at once. When your dear
est literary friend begins to talk in q su-
perior way about somebody's great poem
just turn the conversation to the book you
have read and she he's not and squelch her.
It's an easy trick. madam. and one that
plenty of the so-called literary people
play"
The young mstron thanked him for the
hint, and then with characteristic feminine
ingratitude privately decided that he was
giving leaf out of his own experience and
sent him down a peg in her estimation.