The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1897-10-14

that the lady to whom the Singer sang
lived over the way in the stone house
with the balconies at the wind ows] and
the guarding lions at the door. Be.that
as it may, it is fact that when the
Singer came to the city for his series OF
concerts and recitals, he sanctified the
abode of the Old Maid with his presence
for whole week And the Old Maid
was agitated mysteriously by his pres
ence, though it is. doubtful if he even
saw her shabby little figure. rs
One night she crept down the stair
way when the house was still, and
slipped paper beneath the Singers
door sill. The paper bore set of verses
written in the fine hand of a woman
who was educated a quarter of cen
fury ago, and a little note that read:
IF you should sometimes find this
worthy to sing I would be the happiest
woman on EARTH" .s5 &f
Now, the Singer felt a brutal indif-
ference about all happiness save his
own, which had been sorely tried that
night by the lady of his songs. So he
merely muttered: "Confound imbecile
women" Then he looked at the verses
and then he went gloomily to bed. But
through the night as he reflected upon
his blighted hopes and the hardness of
his fate, some of the Old Maids lines
sang themselves through his mind.
I'm see thee in each flower that grows;
Thou art not lost while lives the rose.
Not lost while lives the rose,"
the foolish refrain insisted.
In the morning the silly rhymes
would not be banished. He found him
self humming them to an air, and by
and by-so weak was he owing to the
cruel lady-he sat down at the piano
and played the air softly.
It was that same week that he gave
his great concert at the hall uptown.
With Indifferent generosity he offered
the landlady tickets to be distributed,
and so it happened that the Old Maid
and went together.
The Old Maid was very pink and very
tremulous, and not being in her conf
dence I could not understand her state.
After all, there was nothing in a sue.
cessful singer of 33 to excite spinster
stenographer of so.
The Singer had sung grand opera
arias and the music from masses. He
had sung Scotch ballads and German
love songs. But he could not sing
enough to satisfy his audience. After
each properly numbered selection, he
was recalled again and again. Finally
he came out and said:
II wish I could tell you the author of
the words am going to sing. They
were sent to me anonymously in manu-
script and I have no means of giving
credit to whom it is due" - ~,
The Old Maids figure quivered. She
breathed sobbingly and drew closer to
me, and wondered if she were going
crazy. -
Then the Singer sang the simple
vreses. They may have been very bad
as verses, but as song they were
success. The audience listened intent
ly, the women looking up, as women
look when lowered eyelids would let
the tears brim over. And when the last
verse rang out, plaintively and proud
ly: ~
I" And though thou hast banished me,
I touch thee in each nodding fower;$ :
I see thee, dear one, every hour,
In sky. or star, or sea.
All beauty holds some hint of thee,
And so thou canst not Danish me, -
Thou canst not Danish me-
the hall forgot to applaud for, fully
three seconds, when it caught it's breath
and surreptitiously wiped it's eyes.
That is, all but the Old Maid. She wept
quite openly, turning her radiant, tear
stained face toward me.
"It's mine! It's mine!" she half
sobbed. "Oh, it's mine and I am so
happy!" ..- ..-~
And then she told me the whole story.
But neither prayers nor entreaties
could prevail upon her to let me tell her
secret. And the boarders still wonder
why it is that a colorless little lady like
the Old Maid sometimes wears look
of pride.-Peterson Magazine.