The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1900-09-12

comfortable, Frau Binde msTsIcu pv
sincerely ana he was SO hungry that lie
accepted, with thanks and apologies.
The old woman went back to her work.
Fraulein Binde sighed again and again.
So did Herr Wagner, between sips and
bites. at last she said:
"Leo's master was one Of our board.
ers."
"Was hep
Annchen's story was not slow In
coming. -.
Herr Wagner was interested. "Did
you cry?" he asked. She nodded sew
eral times. There was sob In her
throat; she could not speak. Presently
she said: "He is gone, gone, gone, and
ali that remains Of him Is Leo-dear
Leo. I'll never part with him. When
look at him, think of Herr Zimmel.
feel both sud and happy" She burst
into tears once more.
Don't cry" Herr Wagner snid ten.
derly. "He'll come back to you, mark
my word."
dc began pacing the floor, and then,
suddenly stopping in front of her, he
said, with great agitation:
"Its something like my own case,
fraulein. am In love, frauiein. Yes,
Pm In love. Every fiber is aflame In
me-" Annchen looked UP from her
sewing. completely absorbed. "It was
to play my declaration to her that
was going to her fathers house. She
would have understood me- I know
she would. Every note would have ad-
dressed itself to her heart. 1t is based
ON my theory. Richard Wagner Is all
the rage nowadays. Even the French,
who hate us because wc are better
than they, even they play him. And
| yet and yet-the last word has not yet
been uttered. Verdi is naive. His
melodies szpEess-what do they ex-
press2 Nothing! Absolutely nothing!
They convey neither the character nor
the sentiment Of the persons. It's
candy music. But Wagner fell into
the opposite extreme. His music Is
expressive. It's art. But It's heavy,
dull. indigestible. SO say, let us
combine the two. let us produce operas
Of expressive melody. of II elody which
should speak for itself, unaided-nay,
untrammeled, by words. What would
you think Of q painter who should
mark his every figure, This Is man,
/ ana ne is sad, this 10 d dos, dos cca :. &c
running after fox If music can't
tell its own tale, let us write poems.
Verdrs music Is like hower-odorous,
sweet, beautiful, delightful, but with.
out meaning. On the other hand, Wag-
ner, In his revolt against the old school,
committed another blunder. Why can't
we have sweet tunes full Of meaning ?
| 4 fn al, kt,ok
can be done. am working on an
opera without a libretto, and If 1t sue
ceeds have ideas for more, all Of
which are bound to produce real rev.
olution In the world Of music. Is It not
a significant coincidence that my name
should be WagnerT
Annchen said Eyes" She did not
know what he was talking about, yet
she laid down his coat for q minute,
and running down to her mother, she
said:.
"That gentleman talks SO nicely.
mother! It's all about operas and
flowers and wise things. He Is q
music teacher, and he's awfuly
smart" And without giving the old
woman time to put In word she
hurried back to the parlor. A rew min
utes after she said
1.-The song you were going to sing to
your sweetheart must be awfully
pretty"
! Herr Wagner sat down to the old
piano and hammered out his decla-
ration.
''Wunder schoen! Wunder schoenl"
she exclaimed. lifting her eyes TO the
ceiling.
"well. owe It all to myself" he
said. my father was O poor school.
teacher. had to starve Cor it. I
couldn't af7ord to engage q teacher. TO
60 TO conservatory. was my own
conservatory. have shown some OF
my music TO publishers. They send It
back. Some musicians envy my genius.
because tkey are afraid OF me. Others
cay It's pretty good, but they are q lot
Of liars. They only want to get rio OF
me. Only one man was honest. Took
here. young man. he said, there is
some good STUFF In sou, but you need
training and systematic study. see
snatches of melody In your compo-
sitions that are gems OF art, but they
are twisted. They might make an ex-
cellent waltz a walt2l He's honest
but he. too, Ia afraid I'll eclipse him.
] don't care. am. bound to succeed.
This poor body is used to priyation."
His voice broke and ns Annchen look.
ed up she thought che saw tears In his
eyes.
"Don't cry" che comforted him.
| The next afternoon he called on
them again. He played to Annchen.
spoke OF his operas to her, wept to her.
When the shades OF evening were be-
ginning to creep into the room, ana a
streak OF gold cleaned through the
window. she heaved deep Sigh and
before they knew why they threw
themselves into each others arms, and
their lips clung together.
When they resumed their seats both
looked at the door. Annchen was the
first to break silence.
"But you love that young lady" che
Il, aaf