The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1902-01-03
When the Tune CHANGED
By 4UD HUMPHREY

to you. She He hesitated. The eternal
feminine aroused.
"1s she like me?'
mo, not at ALL She is not-beautiful,'
The girl at his side smiled into the heart of
the violets, and when she glanced up once
more he was gazing steadfastly toward the
mass of rigging and tunnels that marked the
rivers edge, She wondered if he knew where
they were going.
''And she does.not make me hate myself as
you do
Really, this was becoming interesting! He
was 50 ingenious, this southern chap who
wore his heart on the most conspicuous point
OF lis oVercOat sleeve.
She is not tall and she does not wear.
those long, trailing skirts that look so well,
on you. Her hair is neither light nor dark.
don't believe could tell its exact color.
Eut her eyes-they're gray, and such gray.
I lhey seem to say with her lips, I will wait
for you-forevcr!
Yes; we all say that's she said, almost.
mockingly. Usually it is So effective
! He turned on her fercely.
but you don't mean it! How many times
| have you said it?''
| my dear boy, that is such a personal ques-s
tom"
But you would consider it your right 10
| ask me that?''
| Mot at ALL I know the world too we'll to
| ask foolish questions.
There it is again. that cynicsm, that utter
lack OF faith which makes me hate myself
for loving you. You are unworthy. I be-
| lieye you arc the sort of a woman man.
might love to madness and then-forget''
Her lip curled, half in scorn, half in amuse-s
/ ment, at his lmpetuosity
| And she?''
"a could never forget her, no matter
to what heights he might rise or how low
| he might sink
And yet you say she is not beautiful?
mot as the world and Sunday papers rict-
! ure beauty
The neighborhood was more squalid. On
| the next corner they came upon street
piano emitting ragtime melody A group of
| tenement children were dancing about it.
| They slowed up and watched the scene. The
man tossed the Italian coin. The itinerant
/ musician pushed lever, and the air changed.
| The man and the girl had crossed to the
| opposite corner. but as the first bar Of TIE
| new tune foated toward them the young
| fellow stopped suddenly. His face softened,
| the strained expression faded from his eyes,
| and he gazed with yearning toward the sails
and rigging now two short blocks beyond
! Then it's sing one song Of my old Ken
lucky hone!'' hummed street urchin in
harmony with the piano. The man drew
long, full breath. A hanson dashed around
| the corner. He hailed the driver and helped
| the girl into the vehicle.
| I've been very thoughtess to let you walk
| so far His voice low and rich. 1t
! thrilled the girl, who made room for him
! beside her. mo: am walking back
| ''Shall you be us this evening?'
| mo; think not. There are so many others
you will hardly miss me-and'-
| ''Yes?"
Il am going back to Richmond-and-her
| Goodby''
| The driver snapped his whip, and the horse
plunged forward. The girl leaned back with
| coh
to be the sort Of woman a man would never
! forget, even if one were not beautiful
| Then she drew out her calling list, signaled
| the driver, issued a surt order and looked
in the tiny mirror her right to make sure
that her picture hat was at the correct angle.