The News-Herald. [volume] (Hillsboro, Highland Co., Ohio) 1886-1973, 1899-02-23

--Only an luuDVuOe OIL puln. Dut tudt
Of yesterday was the broad blade that
kills ut one stroke.
And again---ae II broadened and deep
ened. and faded. like a mopnbeam.
away-"that Of yesterday" he mur-
INJURED. was repuncia tion; with its bat
tie. its victory. its sublime triumph,
It's transient peace; to-day's is resig-
nation; submit tauce which has naught
Of battle. of victory, Of triumph. but
only pain. To-day's is the end. an end
thut has no end"
But as he lay there. hands claeped
behind his tired head. lips parted in
q smile--a smile unlike his. for it had
naught Of scorn In it--there broke upon
the silence the opening bars Of little
prelude, dainty and sweet in itself. but
the ma nner Of its playing veritable
triumph in mediocrity. 1t walled and
cried laboriously above the Poets head.
and ech oed above the window. II broke
into painful snatches and Indifferent
rhythm.
The Poet sprang to his feet with an
exclamation of impatience. ITO spoil
that with this!" he cried. 20, how can
she?" He bit his lips wrathfully; but
he did not intend to have his dream
altogether spoiled, and, his anger con-
quering his WEAKNESS. ran lightly up
the narrow stair.
He burst into the room of the stran-
ger wi,hout preface or prelude. and be-
gan, in high-pitched, womanisb voice:
"What in the world" Then he paused,
for he found she was crying. A little,
middeaged woman, with q wrinkled
face, and funny elfn locks that fell In
q cloud about II. She was standing in
the middle of the room, with her music
stretched out fatty on the table. and
her violin and bow in her hands; stand-
ing, the tears running thickly down her
pale cheeks, without making any at
tempt to wipe them away.
The Poet felt even angrier than be-
fore. Women Of that age had no right
to cry SO openly, he thought; IL went
against all his theories. He was angry,
TOO, that he had imagined her to be
young.
"What an abominable row." he said,
savagely. "And what are you crying
about? But 1t is enough to make any
one cry!" He was not far from tears
himself with vexation.
She looked up at him wistfully--she
was but little thing---and withoutany
apparent surprise at his presence or alb
rupt entrance. "Ah! should no, have
played again." she sobbed. after aft
er had given It up"
"Then l had guessed arightl" cried
the Poet. Yesterday it was renun-
citation, and to-day resignation. But
what had you given up? What have
you renounced? To what are you re-
signed?"
II don't understand you," she said,
uncomprehendingly. She laid her vio-
lin on the table, hanging over it a.
mother does over her child.
"When you played yesterday"
"But l didn't play yesterday" she
cried. II wanted too, so badly! The
storm cried to me; the wind cried; and
the sea cried; and heard them all.
took my violin in my hand, but could
tell nothing Of what hearfid. o, how
unhappy was! Then drew the bow
backward and forward across the
strings, but without touching them,
and imagined it all. caught the sob
bing of the sea-god on the end OF my
bow; sent out the cry of the gulls--"
"And the spray of the seal" cried the
Poet.
"And the eddy and gathering of the
foam"
"And the mutter OF the waves!"
"And thought of how ! might have
played had not something, something
been wanting. o, cried to God to give
me the power to play as-as my soul
could play, but for this thing-this me
that cannot"
'"Fhe cry for the unattainable." the
Poet whispered to himself. but she did
not hear or heed him.
IT made resolution" She dried her
tears briefly at the recollection of it.
God would not give me my desire. SO
gave up my semblance Of it, for I
wanted to keep my ideal. Then, when
/ had quite made up my mind, how l
could have played then! But it would
not come"
'.The triumph" said the Poet. He
smiled imperceptibly to himself.
"But to-day 1t was all SO dreary. It
was all over, and there was nothing left.
And afterI had thought how it was all
over and my last note played, thought
l would again say good-by to my fiddle.
And l fetched it out and played good
by, but without making sound. And
felt not bit sorry, but only strange
feeling here;" she put her hand on her
heart. $50 played a real little bit to
see If it would take it away"
He did not speak. His dream had
come back to him; and his thoughts,
like white clouds, floated far, far away.
"But am going away tomorrow"
she said. with white lips, but firmly;
"and will never play again. Will you
take it, please? Will you take it with
you? l shall never have one again."