Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1893-08-03
A GIRLS RANSOM.

| waited ICr WITH more GREATNESS I'M
| patience than was Edith Wayne by
| the congregation assembled in the
| old village church that bright Sep
TENDER morning. Her black cloth
sacque fitted her trim little form to
a nicely, and the jaunty hat curved
up behind, with the tall ribbon loops
and feather sprays, with bits of jet
dancing on their tips. surmounted a
head of ightish, fluffy brown hair,
and fresh face of only twenty sum-
mers and winters. Pagetown had re-
| ceived shock; and few things short
| of an earthquake could have so
| shaken uI the little community as
| the sudden determination of Squire
| Page, for whose ancesto, the town
had been named. to make a change
in the choir of the Congregational
church.
Matilda Prescott had been the head
soprano in the church for the past
fifteen years, with salary OF $75 a
year, which Squire Page paid out of
his own pocket, as he did all of the
expenses connected with the sing
ing. Something in the nature of an
| electric shock passed through her,
therefore, when he called one morn
| ing in the summer. and. asking to
| speak with her alone, tried to explain
in as few words as possible his rea-
sons for wishing to make a change
in the choir arrangements. 1t was
| awkward business and he made an
awkward job of it.
s.1'ha 70 n j. i
moves, you know, and we've all got
to move along with it. This young
lady has big voice. can tell you. -
WHO is she?" asked Matilda,
family.
She's Miss Wayne-her folks
live somewhere out West; she's
studying al the conservatory. Her
| teacher says her voice is phenom-
email, and | believe he's right. 1t
goes along up the scale, you know,
without any perceptible break, from
low A to f in alt, two octaves and a
half. don't you see?n
why don't they give her posi-
ton in the city if she can do so much ?"
''Well, they will. by and by, but
she's young yet and hasn't had ex-
perience in church music. I've made
up my mino to engage her for year,
and | suppose at the end of that time
they'll want her where they can pay
her more than we can" He did not
say that he had promised to give her
$500. That was a secret between the
young singer and himself.
Having delivered his message the
squire left the house as soon as he
could. His departure was not de-
layed, as poor Matilda was so taken
aback by the news she had heard
that she hao no words at hand with
which to make any fitting reply. She
lost no time, however, in going into
the kitchen, where her sister was at
the wash tub giving vigorous rubs to
the weeks washing.
Jane Prescott was 20 years the
senior OF the two, and they had long
kept house together, in a snug,
thrifty way. Jane was the manager
and the master spirit, and at 63
years of age retained the vigor of
body and mind she had possessed at so.
She had assumed the entire charge
OF her sister after the death of their
parents, just thirty-one years ago
this summer: and Matilda seemed to
her now almost as much a child as
when she used to harness up the old
white mare, and take her to the little
red brick schoolhouse, two miles
from their home.
Sister" said Matilda, in a voice
broken by convulsive sobs, I'm
turned out of the singing seats"
WHAT snapped out Jane, in a
tone that went singing through the
room like a rifle shot
''1es; that's what Squire Page
came for Just now. He says the folks
want young voices in churches, and
he's got girl about 20. who's COM
ing in a month or So"
Two fierce, red spots appeared on
Jane Prescot5's thin cheeks on hear
ing this concise statement. and her
pale, gray eyes looked out with a
menacing glare, as she took of her
glasses and stood staring at her
sister"
Don't look like that, Jane for good
ness sake; j. isn't worth it. OF
course | feel badly and shall for some
time; but l suppose it's all right,
after all. Yo1 know l am getting
old, comparat vely speaking.
Getting old. Matilda Prescott!
You're a young woman yet"
mo. forty three can't be called
young. My voice isn't as strong as
it was before the fever l fairly
tremble when we have tune with
high G in it. can't be steady You
know my voice never was cultivated,
and they say that makes all the
difference in the ability to manage it.
"Well, you can stand there and run
yourself down if you want to, but |
say it's wicked shame, the whole
thing. That girl won't stay long in
the choir, let me tell you, if she
comes-I'll fix it.
why, Jane, what do you meanP"
T. -