Semi=weekly graphic., 1897-09-18
THE SONG OF \ SOUL
A LEGEND OF THE STRING tNsTRu-
 MENT FOUNDED ON ERROR.


 the Tragedy That Resziesa Gherefroa.
 Under the Musieian's Touch.
 It is known to only a few people that the devil once had a daughter-that was many years ago. The Lord be praised, she lived only short time. I She was cut off in her youth. She came 10 this world in the guise of 8 graceful kitten, and l, Mir Thomas Katgut, was destined to have my fate intermingled with hers.
 While strolling along the banks of a pleasant little stream first met Miss Pussy Carmine, and we'll was she named When I gazed into her eyes, they seemed to glow with fire, and when l drew my eyes away they were so dazzled that all around and about me seemed for a moment to be red. and the soft gray fur with which she was GOV cred seemed to be tipped with scarlet
 Despite the fact that my entire heart went cut to her in adoration at first sight, could not but be conscious of | strange and unusual feeling which l could not localize. It seemed to draw and strain until it fairly aehed, but l could not place it. It was not my heart, nor yet my liver, and it seemed to be far from my head. This meeting was but the first of many. Night after night we met, but in the midst of transports of joy and ecstasies of bliss which these meetings brought to me always con- tinued to experience the indesoribable feeling, vague, unapproachable, yet al ways there when in her presence.
 One night felt that could no longer contain my feelings, so, on the banks of the river, on the very spot where first NC met told her of my love. And. oh, the effecti Fire seemed to flash from her eyes and mouth and each undivided hair on her body was aaame. Aii the devil in her seemed to be let loose. Before my astonishment gave me chance to act she leaped upon me and began to scratch and tear and gnaw and bite. And in the midst of all the horror and pain of it came that same indesoribable feeling ill the undiseoV- cred place.
 was perfectly powerless to resist her murderous attacks, and any efforts on my part would have been useless, for felt that my hour had come. With out pausing, she continued to scratch and tear at me until finally, feeling that I was in the act of taking my last breath, l opened my eyes to cast a last look upon this sad but beautiful world Just then Miss Pussy seemed to have exhausted her vitality, for she fell back dying even as my last fiut- tering breath issued from my lips. And then my soul left it's earthly dwelling place, and, lowering above, looked down on the scene of the late tragedy.
 Horrible dietu" My own body lay there lacerated and torn, but the body of the devils daughter had vanished into space.
 Eager as l was to soar away to bet ter land, 1 could not tear myself from the spot, but fingered around my poor body in the hope that some kind mor- tai would find il and give it decent bur ial. But alas for all my hopes At early dawn strange looking man, tall and lean, with long hair and bony, slender ] fingers, came wandering toward our late trysting place. Suddenly he saw my body, and trembling took posses sion of him, which he soon controlled, and lifting me gently by the tail, car ried me for some distance until we came to a little house in the woods l ToI. {, 1,C ht NT,, followed through space, eager to see what was to become of my body. This awful man, who, it seemed, was the commander in chief of an army organ ized for the advancement of music, took up 8 murderous looking knife and de- liberately cut my poor body into bits He cut ill deep until he reached my very vitals, and as the knife touched these my soul gave q long, quiyering but satisfied sigh, for he had touched the spot which had always responded to Miss Pussy presence, and which, while had lived, had always eluded my de lection. He took up my Yitals and cut them into narrow strips and strung them across the window to dry. Though my body and soul were really separated, so sensitive was my soul to any touch to these parts that each time a breeze swept across them my soul could not resist cry.
 These cries seemed to please the mu- sician so much that he nearly went wild with excess of feeling. He manipu- lated the strings-which were my yitals in all sorts of ways, and finally drew them taut over a peculiar piece of glazed wood and over this drew rod ill meas ured time. My soul moaned and sighed at each touch, but the musician seemed to know how to modulate and moderate my cries and at the same time to mingle with my tones others of such sweetness and pathos that the combined effect was heavenly and grar q.
 And thus it is that my soul has never found final resting place. for mingled with my sad tones are ever those sweet | and glorious ones, harmoniously inter mingled making music which binds me to earth, holding me back even from heavenly joys.
 Explanation. This is not true story Cats have always been known to be sly and deceitful, and Mir. Thomas Katgut whose soul tells this story, is no exception to the rule. In proof of this statement I call your attention to l the definition of the word catgut in