The copper country evening news. [volume] (Calumet, Mich.) 18??-1907, 1897-07-28

when his lndlHerence, MS gloomy man.
uers had driven away pupils and pub
fishers, and oven this work failed, he at
last accepted the position of tuner in
the piano store Of the Rue de Richelieu,
a subordinate position, an inferior call
ing, which he had now filled for 2 years.
During these years La Salvani had
continued her triumphal journey across
Europe and America. Her return TO
Paris had often been announced. More
than one manager had made her bril-
liant offers But these reports, which
each time made a great noise in the
newspapers were never, never realized.
1t had even been said that she was
afraid of Paris. Her fame was inoTeas-
ing every day. She had not failed in
her destiny, and the queen, which she
already was at the conservatory, she
had now become in very truth, wei
coined everywhere, covered with flow
ers and jewels, celebrated in the papers,
never leaving the thoater without an
enthusiastic crowd following her car
riage.
And he-he was nothing. OF his tai
ent, of his fine Dreams there remained
not trace. The radiant mirage of his
youth had faded into this mechanical
occupation, in which he was not even
fortunate enough to find forgetfulness.
And it was Juliette whom he had
just seen-by what cruel chance-she
who was TO sing this evening.
Some days before Pierre had noticed
in a newspaper her engagement at the
| Opera. She had then decided. The past
was sufficiently done away with for her
to come back to Paris without trouble,
and she had arrived there at the height
of her glory, public idol.
Then mad desire to hear La Saliva
nj overcame Pierre Morel. He would
suffer like one damned, to be sure, but
what matter?
The soubrette had said it was not
possible to procure single ticket
Well, he would get one if it took his
whole months salary
The tuner did not dream of going
home, of making his toilet. He did not
think of dining. Besides, time pressed.
1t was already past o'clock.
Pierre betook himself to one Of the
dramatic agencies so numerous in the
neighborhood of the theater. The
agent, judging the man by his appear
ance, declared that he had not a seat TO
sell. Pierre insisted, letting it be I'M
derstood that the price was no consider
alton.
sin any case could only give you a
seat in the fourth gallery. {"
"That will do. And how much is it?"
Fifty francs"
Pierre took out his purse and paid the |
money without remonstrance. Had he |
been asked for his blood he would have |
said, "Take it. -"
The electric light about the theater |
shone upon a noisy going and coming |
of carriages and of pedestrians. The IL |
Illuminated facade, the municipal guards. !
immovable upon their horses, announc-
ed gala evening. Boys hustled about |
with librettos and programmes. Coupe |
after coupe, with horses in jingling |
harness, stopped in front of the theater.
A man, whose evening dress could be {
seen under his topcoat, would descend, !
stretching gloved hand to woman |
in a beautiful costume.
1t was nearly s o'clock.
Pierre Morel crowded into the lobby, |
where the chandeliers threw into effect
i've relief the gorgeous, bewildering !
mass of people.
He climbed up to the fourth gallery,
refused to leave his topcoat with the at
tendant, secured his seat-all with the
dazed air he had worn since leaving the
ri I in, .ft
The house began to fill, the musicians
in the orchestra prepared their instru-
ments. Everywhere flowers, diamonds,
jewels, veritable feast for the eyes.
Three strokes of a bell sounded, the |
overture began, the curtain rose with |
the majesty of an evening of special |
significance. Pale as death, Pierre Mo- !
rel did not move his eyes from the |
stage. When the silhouette of Marquee
rite at the spinning wheel appeared, it
seemed to him that his heart ceased to |
beat.
All, what would he not have given to |
find again his youth, like Faust, his |
youth for an hour, an instant, his hap |
py, careless, confiding youth!
Now the heart of Pierre Morel beat |
as if it would burst 1t was she, his |
beloved, faithless Juliette. His glance |
never left her, his soul was as if sus-
pended on each of the notes which came |
from her false mouth.
She presented the garden scene with !
q consummate art. In the cathedral |
scene her accents were so tragic it was
impossible to remain insensible to |
them. The success of the presentation
was assured. The final trio came, and
La Salvani surpassed herself. Her
voice, clear, dominating without effort
the uproar of the orchestra, seemed |
really to carry the soul of Marguerite
to the heights of heaven. Emotion
reached its limit and became delirium.
All the spectators stood up, breathless,
and when she had finished they made
her begin again, and still again, and
the star had to reappear five or six
times, and bouquets and garlands rain
ed around the cantatrice-roses, azalias,