The Red Cloud chief., 1901-09-27
An Arrow and a Song.


When Basil Hetherington was young
and addicted to writing OF poetry 1t
CHANGED that he knew a glrl-her name
was Eloisa Grey, II you want to
know-and he addressed all OF
his poems to her. He wrote
about the dawn and told her she was
like that to him, and he wrote about
storm and midnight and said these
things were like his dreary heart. He
celebrated her eyes and her golden
head, and her little feet and the mead
ow through which she walked, and
her voice singing In church. He
looked and longed for some acknowl-
edgment OF these verses, which
seemed to him quite the most sincere
and moving Of any that ever were
written. But none came. Eloisa went
her ways with only casual notice OF
him. And the first thing either Of
them knew. the days OF childhood and
poetry had passed; the meadows
across which she had walked to school
were built up with houses; Basil
Hetherington had gone to q larger and
dirtier city. and Eloisa went away to
the far East, and Inter to Europe to
study music.
Now, though no one had thought
much about 1t In the old town. 1t was
a fact that she had an unusual music
al talent. II was creative and orig
inal. II sometimes seemed to her as
II she thought only OF music. and ev-
cry sound she heard resolved itself
into q part Of q harmony for her.
Sounds were chords and discords to
her--the whistling Of an engine. the
kissing Of steam, the beat Of hoofs on
the pavement, the roar Of the town.
the purr Of q skin through the water.
all were q part Of natures symphony.
She, who had seemed to herself SO
simple and childish a little time ago.
became complex. She wondered at
her own impulses; and the genius
within her dominated her and set her
to work when she would fain have
been idle; 1t compelled her to relin-
Quish pleasures for the sake of her
task; she set aside friendships that
she might not be tempted into dali
lance. All Of her care-free life was
as a thing Of the past. Great thoughts
and impulses had come to abide in
her and to control her life. Her eyes
were opened to an appreciation of the
achievements Of the masters. All
that was domestic In her she would
haWn omVuSaA 0yao dad ar AnSvnant
She lived for the sake Of her art. To
express in lofty terms the inspiration
Of her soul she felt to be her destiny.
So. by working early and late. It
came about that her genius was har-
messed; set to a pace: II was lawful,
obedient. swift and strong. And
Eloisa 0rey--who had q name which
you would all know II It were to be
told you-was q famous woman.
Good critics pronounced her work
original, beautiful and Of haunting
characteristics. They said few wom-
en- composers had ever got 90 at the
root Of harmony; they talked about
her musicianly knowledge; they said
she was q humble student Of the mas
ters. that she observed the traditions.
yet triumphed over her knowledge
and made 1t her own, and set the seal
Of personality upon all she did.
Having done all this, she fell to
signing and wondered II 1t was worth
while. The laws Of harmony, she re-
fiected. were existent from the begin.
ming. Any one could discover them;
any n could make peculiar arrange
ments Of musical notes. devise new
themes, perceive that some musica
ideas stood for one set Of emotions
others for other emotions. And afte,
It was all done, where wat the Joy o
It? She went to a dreaming. i'm
memorial little town on the Mediter
ranean and moped, not caring mucl
for herself. thinking mighty little o
fame. alienated from the life Of he
lsirlhood and feeling most bitterl,
alone.
At the same time O young merchan
In hardware back In q dirty and bots
ferrous town was rejecting that III
was absurd. To toll for the sake Q
mere toll; to sleep for the sake Q
waking. and to wake for the sake @
more sleeping by and by. appeared t
him to be q dull game. Getting alon
In business had appeared to him to b
dificult at the beginning. though tn
business had not been at all OF hi
liking. But. somehow, he had sue
seeded. His concern al In CORE
spondence with many hundred towns
he was an exporter. OF no mean enter
prise. To help keep himself amuse
he built him a home and furnished
and lived In It, and wondered why h
could not get the courage to ask an
of the women he knew to marry him
Sometimes as he sat before his fr
In the quiet Of an evening, after h
was weary with reading, he woul
lean his head back and muse for
time, and In the unguarded moment
he confessed, half unconsciously,
himself that the reason he did nc
marry was because no girl had eve
seemed so sweet to him as Elois
Grey, to whom he used to write tn