The record-union., 1898-12-29
THE BROKEN HEART.
CWritten for the Record Union" by


| CWritten for the Record d-Union'' by
Beselena)
There lived once musician who was
young, full Of fire and enthusiasm.
All day his voice could be heard, soar
ing in song, even above the din Of the
busy street below. When he sang
| people stopped in their work to listen;
| never had they heard anything like
| it before
Some people called the musician
crank. When he heard this he smiled
scornfully to himself Poor foolsi" he
thought pityingly, What do they know
Of an artists life? 1t is true they did
not understand him; they did not know
that he led dual existence. Only one
possessed of a keenly sensitive temper
ment can appreciate such an existence.
! When he sat before his piano, his long,
| slim fingers wandering over the ivory
| keys and lifted up his voice and sang
| he felt exalted, uplifted. He scared far
above the petty things of life. He was
| in region peopled with images of
! his own creating; he felt a divine exal-
tation creep over him to which his
voice responded in an outburst of song;
J
the mood was upon him. At such times
| his face wore another look; he was
another creature; a dreamer of dreams
wandering for hours in Elysan fields
Was it then any wonder that when he
came down to earth once more he found
it mean, petty, sordid? He waged a
perpetual warfare between his artistic
nature and his human self.
Now there came every day to the
musicians studio a young girl. Her
name was Angela. She was beautiful
and young, and the musician recognized
in her the promise of a future great
ness; q greatness which would live
after he himself had passed away. One
thing only was lacking in the beautiful
body which God had given her. She
had no soul. This the musician quickly
discovered to his rage and dispair. But
| he did not give up hope. He told him.
self again and again that it was i'm
possible that such a perfect piece of
handiwork should be without feeling;
that there must be a soul hidden
away somewhere beneath that marble
| like exterior. 1t should be his
| task to find that soul and bring
it forth into the light of day. And
when he had found it-ah, heaven, how
she would sing theni
| 1t was not an easy task. Day after
day he sang his most passionate love
! songs to her with a depth and intensity
| of feeling that caused the people who
| listened to wonder, but Angela listened
with an inscrutable smile upon her
face. Many times he was on the point
of giving up in despair, but when the
clear, liquid tones Of her almost perfect
voice fell upon his ears he could not
Never did lover plead more eIoquently
for his ladys favor than did the musi-
clan for the awakening of the soul of
| this statue-like girl.
Then, one day there came upon the
musician an inspiration. There came
also to his studio each day another grl
whose name was Esther. She, too, was
| young and fair to look upon, but in her
voice there was not the promise that
! there was in Angela's. The musician
thought Esther's ability only mediocre,
| and did not devote to her the time
and patience he gave Angela But or
a sudden all this was changed It was
to Esther and not to Angela that all the
| passionate outpourings of his heart
were directed in song. At first the girl
could not understand; gradually she
| began to respond to the new order of
things. She was given a new impetus.
She sang as does a Gagged bird who
has suddenly regained his freedom
Now Angela, too, began to notice the
new order of things, and she began to
| droop and pine like q tender flower ex-
posed to a rude gust of wind A plain
tive note came into her voice. When the
musician saw this he was almost tempt
ed to give up. But all at once a change
took place, a marvellous change
One day he and Esther were singing
a duet together. 1t was a passionate
thing with a death note of despair all
the way through it. Angela listened
passively. When it came to an end she
said:
Let me try this with your" Scarcely
had the first note left her lips than the
musician realized that the hour OF his
triumph was at hand. Never before nor
since was such singing heard; it seemed
as though an angel had dropped from
heaven to earth. When the song was
| finished the musician cIapped his hands
and cried:
Al last, aC last L nave awakened
your soul!" But she did not respond,
and when he looked at her he saw that
her eyes were closed, and that the same
dim, inscrutable smile that he knew so
well hovered again about her lips He
did not understand and rushed over 70
her frantically: he touched her hands
timidly, for there was a something
about her that awed him in spite of
himself.
MY God!' he cried, What does this
mean?' And Esther, bending over her,
responded solemnly:
"She is dead. You have found her
| cn11l ,tic