Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1898-02-02
A MUSICAL VICTORY.

In a respectable fiat there lives Madeline
McGrcgor and Algeruon McCurry- Made
line at the first landing, Algernon at the
second Madeline. who is 70, fair haired
and dreamy. had dragged out many moons
in the respectable fat before Algernon
had come To gladden. her existence and to
make life for her, not n weary, lovcless
waste, but a glad heyday of joy, ilumined
by the adorin looks of her new neghbor.
When Afgernon first saw the fair. sweet
face and the SOULFUL eyes of Madeline his
heart gave OF, wild throb and then stood
still. He, whose whole life was full of
ambition, VINO had heretofore existed
fundamentally and found most of his
pleasure i'll ing the balance sheet come
right the first time, had at last surren
dered to the tender passion-and at first
sight. Stole business ambition that had
persistently refused to see aught of charm
in duck Skin, l and shirt wasted feminin-
ity now dre"rred solely of pink and white
compilations nd fluffy, sunny hair.
They met and loved.
Gladly had things progressed up to the
time when combination of circum
stances came SO near disappointing the
fair dream of true love. 1t was on "a Fri
day night toward the end of dog days.
When Algernon McCurry came down to
the fat on the first landing, his heart was
full of JOY. And Madeline, too seemed
to be in an I'm isually jubilant mood. How
sweet then d it all seem and how little
did they know of the dark days that were
to follow When they went out for stroll
along the residence streets it seemed as if
night We're never so full of love The
great, round, silvery, harvest moon flooded
no "a tIa =
armament tle great dome of heaven.
seemed mad Home for the love of Algcr
non and Madeline. Il was then that in
the fuIlncss of her Young life Madeline
told why her heart was Overlooking with
gladness
In years gone by she had lived alone for
music. Reverscs had come upon them.
and she had been forced to give it up 10
surrender what was then to her her whole
life, but now tickle fortune had again
smiled, and the very next week she wasHo
have n new piano. Her lot was in very
truth an enviablc one. In her fresh young
enthusiasm she poured out all her glad
feelings, and Algernon sympathized, and
he. too, was glad
That night when he sought his folding
bed it was 10 dream of sweetest Music, Of
fair. white hands dear hands slender
tapcring fingers, tenderly, lovingly wan
d f"irg over - stretch of ivory Keys. n
fancy he 60 / hear heavenly strains and
a sweet yoU- voice in tender soulful Ice
songs-and al for him. All, Al sso,.nal
how little did he reckon then of what was
to follow,
On Wednesday the people across tha way
saw a new Iiano, bright and beaEti.Gl
taken into the first floor entrance OF the
respectable tat.
Algernon was kept at his office that night
by stress Of business From his high stool
he cast up long columns of dancing figures
and his dull, tired eyes achcd and 2r,,S1
weary. All the while fairy vision hoy-
cred between him and the endless columns
"a vision of dear, sweet maid, with
golden hair, seated before "A piano from
which, with the magic touch of her hly
white hands, she brought dulcet strains Of
heavenly melody, At last the final dane
ing column is finished, the big pile of slips
that seemed rot TO have an end is exhaust
ed, and Algcraon. with tagging footsteps
goes to the car and home. How welcome
seems his little flat room! How pleasant
the folding bed How eagerly does he
WOO sleep and the dreams of his true love,
But what is this? What sound breaks
in upon the rest that is about to come
Rudely the midnight silence is fractured
broken, severed scattered to the four
winds of heaven, There is preliminary
tinkle, a silvery, Introductory ping, ping,
a resonant, melodious pang, pang, ard
then long harmonious ping, ping, ping,
pang ping. ping. pang, pang, ending IN
grand boom, boom, boom! Algernon
starts up in alright.
Can this be she. But. ah, it is over. -
Not yet. Again there is the tinkle and
the ping, ping and the pang, pang and
the boom, boom-boom! And then again
and again, and then louder and louder
ceaselessly, endlessly.
An hour passes, or is it week? Rest
lessly Algernon McCurry losses on his
pillow.
oh, mother" he cries Can this ne
:ruef Oh, father, forgive her, Apollo,
Calliope, hosts Of high Olympus, what
means this wild clamor? Am l mad or is
this but weird, horrible nightmare that
will not be driven away"
But hist The din lessons. Something
that was is not, The long, creeping cable
beneath the car tracks has stopped The
witching hour is here. The city sleeps,
but not Madeline, not Algernon, not any
one in the respectable FIAT. Hours pass,
and then--oh, joy-it ceases. silence,
like poulticc comes to heal the blows of
sound A watchdog bays the moon. A
distant suburban cock crows the waking
light and Algernon dreams.
And he sees storm Great, black clouds
mount up the sky. Forked lightning, huge
tongues of fame, darts hither and thither
i'll the blue black night. Mighty crashes of
thunder test the strength of heaven artil-
lery Beginning at his very feet he sees a
path of glistening keys, pale keys like the
hue of death, and they stretch interim
nably into the distance, narrowing into
thin thread of white light that seems to
pierce the blackness of the storm. Now
come TWO long, tapering, armless hands,
whose severed wrists are foul with cotted
blood and as he looks the two hands are
four. and the four are eight Now there
are a million and as they dance upon the
endless chain OF keys the thunder grows
in volume AMI the crash is soul narrowing