The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1900-09-02
THE SENTIMENTAL BALLAD.
A FarcicaI Comedy i'm One Act and an
Epf1oguc.
DRAMAT,s PERSONA,

DRAMATls PERSONAL
The Poet--A modern verse manufacturer who |
lives by writing internationally. Tor the news
The composer-sccond violin in Opera House
having once published. into oblivion little |
Scene:-Their rooms: containing rented piano. |
a few damaged busts OF the great musicians |
writing table. pictures. pipes. books. etc.
Time:-one Sunday evening.
THE Poet discovered in an easEy-chair busily
ing his teeth with PEN horror the Poet mas
lot yet discovered.l
The Poet: (raising his head)-"what the dick
ems are you trying TO do? Put that pen into the
ink-bottle. If TO do anything with this
internal song tonight. Didn't you say you felt
in the proper mood for II?
The Composer: Cdreamily continuing his oceu-
rationy-"That was before dinner. Have you
Igotten what a dinner 1t WASP
The Poet: (angrily)-'Whose fault was that?
Why you eager to pay the rent yester-
day."
The Composer: (dispassionately using the PEN
Folder as a comb)-"The man ready TO kick
out. You know very we'll he had not had
cent for three months"
The Poet: Ompatientiy)-''well let's get to
work Here's a rough copy of the three verses.
You won't find anything to complain about in
any OF them now. The various lines in each
Rave the quality. oh, throw that pen
away. will you. and get down to work on your
muster
The Composer: deaf to this appea)-"what
did you do with the check for those verses in the
What-you-callem Magazne-the silly stuff VOC
wrote en- Miss WHAT $ names glovcs?"
The Poet: On little embarrassed)-'"That came
in over a week ago-and went out at about the
time Which reminds me- where Is your
last weeks salary?"
The Composer: (sorrowfuly)-'The landlords
agent got most OF 1t. The remainder went for
piano rent 1 think could be more economical
Il I lived alone
The Poet: (unpoeticaIIy)-.'Rot. What makes
you SO dull to night? The dinner was not
very bad. We have eaten worse-and were glad
TO get them
The Composer: danguidly lingering the keys)-
''Do-rc- mi ia sol la-si-do
The Poet deeply sarcas.ic)-"Excelenti
should advise that you continue the study of the
piano-forte my young friend. You exhibit con-
siderable talent, believe me-"
The Composer: (turning)-"Did you say the
words were done? Let's have them. Were 1t not
for your dsgraceful iaziness. tho song would
| have been finished last week"
| The Poet (coldly)-"Where is your plusic?'
| The Composer: (fndng it and beginning a
little prelude)-"Can't say 1 like your second
| verse. old To speak frankly. 1t looks mis-
eIably weak
| The Poet: controlling himselO-"Never mind
the second verse. Let's hear the new music"
The Composer: Observation-Disclosures exam
| ination, my dear fellow. the is o. K.
hadn't quite caught the sentiment. Forgive me-"
Gle pins the words upon the music rack, above
| sheet of manuscript dotted with little fat notes
d:zzily dancing in and out of wavering pencil
| lines. and begins to play)
The Poet Gas the Composer ends with a -four
4 f,,IIo he inc 10 had
1t kills the Words
| The Composer: dndignantly)-"Your are
crazyi"
The Poet: Cwrathfuly singing the line in
| question)-"Do you call that pathos, you fddlins
! idiot?
The Composer: lighting pipe. with aspect
| of cheerfulness)-"Why, yes. Don't you?"
The Poet: (striking match. and thereby par
TALLY regaining his temper)-.'My dear fellow if
you will be pig-headed about these little
things, how to get this thing into
| shape? You are well aware that the second line
| is mushy and the sixth still Yet you
waste time criticising the words. In the name
of Justice, look to the beam in your own blind
| optcs'' 81 1cr
| The Composer: Striking few notes. hercely)
well how do you like this?''
The Poet: (pleasantly)-"My dear fellow, that
is for you to say. For my part think 1t wou;o
II axe good line for a comic coon song. But
| why drift away from our present work.
The Composer (furiously)-"You had better
write out the music yourself. my fine criticP'
| The Poet: (sneeringly)-"And you the words.
| since you think them weak"
"a five minute silence. during which the
| fills with smokey
| The Composer: advancing the ve-branch)-
This is really childish of you old fellow. yet
will admit I also little to blame.
| ought to know your faults by this time, and
| should try to avoid scenes like this
| The Poet: (sullenly)-"Devil take your con-
| founded magnanimityr'
The Composer: persuasvely)-"Come, cd
| man. sing over the first verse, and I'll change
| whatever you please. Come that's right. We
| want to get through with this tonight"
The Poet: (pseudo-tenor-piano accompani-
| ment)-
lin this last moment, ere die,
| Restrain the tears that sta-a-art
| And utter not the bitter sigh ~
That rises from your heart
OF earthly life the end is this.
| We never more shall me-ee-eet;
| All bend your head for one last kiss
And so. good-bye-good-bye. my swee-eet"
| The Composer: (enthusiastically)-''T the
| last verse; old man. The words go splendidly."
The Poet: (apologeticaliy)-"The sixth line is
| better than 1 thought, old fellow. Forgive my
| speaking did
The Composer: (generously)-"rn change it
| anyway. But go ahead with the last verse;"
The Poet (singing. before)-
1.-The world, dear heart. fades on my sight;
Your face 1 cannot see-ee-ee;
Yet nought care for vanished light
| Since Love remains to me.
| i find you still within my"
breaking off)"Just a minute. old man. want
TO fix this up a Bit
rntermission of one hour. to allow readers
| reeded rest.l
| THE EPILOGUE
1.-THE Composer discovered lying upon a couch
smoking heavily. The Poet is leaning back in