The Jasper weekly courier. [volume] (Jasper, Ind.) 1858-1922, 1901-01-25


If they hurry the etching again. be-
fore my poor dear little bears have
been half an hour on the presses.
they'll fill with ink and print gray. III
II! leave money in my will to prose
cute photographers"
"Oh, don't fret" said Miss Bry ant.
"Magazine'll look we'll ,his week. Big
Toms the greatest Sunday editor that
ever happened; and I've got in seine
good stuff, too
"Of course your obligato1l be all
right" Kitty sighed; "but-oh, those
etchers and Yes. Big Tom1l do; ]
never see him frettng the art depart
ment, like the editor before last, 70
sketch a one-column earthquake curd.
ling cup Of cream"
"How could anybody do that?" cried
Helen.
"Just what the artist said"
Miss Bryant looked slightly older
than Helen; in spite Of her brusque,
careless sentences, | suspected that she
was girl Of some knowledge. vast en-
ergy and strength of will. And aus-
picion grew to certainty that she and
Reid were lovers.
might have read it in his tone when
in the course of the evening he asked
her to sing.
''Then give me . baton" she 70.
sponded, springing to her feet.
Rolling up a newspaper and seizing
a bit of charcoal from the drawing
table. she beat time with both hands,
launching suddenly into an air which
she rendered with dra matic expression
as rare as her abandon.
applaud. Applaud" she cried,
clapping her own hands at the end al
brilliant passage. her colorless. ir.
regular face alive with enthusiasm, her
black eyes swapping. IF you don't APP
plaud, how do you expect me to sing?
Vos plaudite."
"I'll applaud when you've surely
stopped" said Kitty Reid, demurely;
"but before we begin an evening OF
grand opera, | want you 10 hear the
princess. Helen, you know you prom
ised."
Nonsense" exclaimed Helen. color
ing at the title. II can't sing before
Cadge: but if you like, III play fol
you. See il I'm not improving in m.
tremolo."
Helen did not sing in the old days
! SO that was not surprised at her re
. fusal. Taking her mandolin. sh'
. tinkled an air that l have often hears
her play. but neither ] nor anyone els'
had ears for il, so absorbed was thu
sense Of sight.
z Her long lashes swept her cheeks a
: she bent forward in the freight, he
vivid coioring subdued by the soft
playing glow TO an elusive charm.
: one moment. as the flames fiickeret
, into stronger life, her beauty seeme
!, to grow fuller and TO have an orienta
I softness and warmth; the next, tn
4 light would die away. and in the cool
/, err. grayer, fainter radiance. her pei
feet grace of classic outline made he
I seem a statue--Galatea just coming
e life. more beautiful than the daughter
4 of men, her great loneliness delicatel
spiritualized.
II l were n beautiful woman, ~
I learn TO play mandolin.
"Sing. Helen" begged Kitty in
> whisper.
In voice that began tremulousl,
. low and faltering. and slowly game
: courage. she sang the ballad she ha
! been playing. 1t was easy TO see tina
I she was not a musician; but, as sh
forgot her listeners, we forgot every
Z thing but her.
Miss Bryant put down the compasse
! and scale rule she had been restlessl
y lingering, and her keen eyes softene
e and dilated. Kitty drcrped on tn
floor at Heen's feet; the hush in III
q room was breathless. Reid sat in IN
0 dark. still as statue; | cienched n
e hands and held silence.
q The words were as simple as the al
e But the voice. so clear, SO sweet, I
JOYOUS. like IIelen's own loneliness.
listening to the rarest notes that ha
e ever fallen on human ears-unless II
{ tale OF the sirens be history,
g As the last note died. the fire leape
!! dropped and left us in dusk and silenc
o Kitty buried her face against Helen
e dress. My heart was pounding until
my own ears il sounded like an an,
e. chorus. don't know whether l ";
I: very happy or very miserable. won
have died TO hear that voice again.
n is the truth
A. With sudden sob and smiling hi
d told Of tears unashamed, Miss Bryal
found frivolous words to veil our EN-
& ton.
% Ladies and gentlemen" she qua
cred, "this Is high-class concer
y three dollars each for tickets. pleas
Helen. you don't know how to sin
X but--don't learn! Come. Pros. I'll
K, big drops ran down her checks; ~
got to look up story in the morning
r "Wait a minute" said Reid, his Ion
"a delicately-s shaped fingers tremblin
'Let me recover on something"
Il Picking up Kitty's banjo. he smo
n the strings uncertainty and half san