Willmar tribune., 1904-06-01

I could still feel how firm and we'll.
rounded her arm was as I caught he1
to prevent her from falling. Her eyes
were hazel-or perhaps gray-dark anG
luminous. They we're certainly hand.
some. So was her brow I noticed
And the curve and arch of her lips
The oval of her face was fine and the
firm turn of her well-rounded chin
How prettily she flushed. And what
A very remarkable face. 1t is strange
how one runs across some chance ac-
quaintance or unknown individuality
which secret impulse whispers is the
one thing sought amid the ceaseless
hurly-burly of life, so overcrowded
with useless care and burdens and
with senseless ambitions
A fleeting glance and the impression
is gone. Then we plod on in our usual
rut, and are very painstaking to pro-
cure what we term pleasures" but
which are only dead-sea fruit, for they
turn to ashes in our mouth.
Ambition. The vain word. Why toll
and moil to excel in any of the various
paths, if there be swelling bank ac-
count to our credit and ones Golfers
are full to overflowing? So l mused
as the car ran on and I neared my Of
fee.
The sweet lovely girl-face, under the
brim of a straw hat, might very we'll
and presumably does, strike the ambi-
tiOn of more than one masculine heart
to guard and to treasure it.
1t is certainly we'll worth every ef-
fort and must be a great incentive
to superhuman efforts and certainly
promises a rich reward
To me the young girl in her light
spring gown is an ever evanescent
ideal, gone and vanished as the car
turns down the avenue and speeds to-
wards Canal street.
I was determined to elude my neigh
Dor, Mile. Valerie, that meretricious
old maid, who gives, feel sure, very
excellent music lessons, so on coming
home, I dressed hastily and went to
dine at the club. I got home late and
saw with satisfaction that no lights
were visible in my neighbor's win
dows.
l had wisely calculated that a hard
working music teacher would probably
be glad to retire early after the ia
tigues of an arduous days work. Yes.
Mile. Valerie and her grayed brother
had retired and were evidently fast
asleep. so I lowered the lights and,
drawing a green leather Morris chair
out on the veranda. settled down for
a comfortable smoke and a quiet hour
OF musing while watching the stars
come out and silvering by the crescent
moon of the quaint gables, the SCROLL
work of the iron balconies and-the
dormer of the old-fashioned houses
around in this almost forgotten part
of the city
A sweet mezzo voice began singing
first one thing and then another in low
tones, so as not to disturb others with
not only an extremely artistic inter-
probation, but training altogether un-
usual.
It was delightful, Who could she
be? drew breath of pleased regret
when the closing door of a nearby
balcony told me the singer had gone
in for the night
A queer idea struck me. That voice
in it's vibrating rich simplicity and
with its warm timbre, matched the
girl-face I had seen in the morning.
and which 1 was free to admit had
been with me pretty much all day.
Yes, the girl with the FURNISHED
hair and gray eyes ought to sing or
play the violin one or the other. And
her voice would be that of my mysteri-
Gus neighbor. Fresh, rich and sweet
with that pathetic ring which nature
only occasionally gives to her prime
favOrites.
1t was silly, but having renewed my
tactics the next day and Mile. Valerie's
scales, l suppose out on the balcony
having refused Mrs. Sidney BANNER
ans theater party and supper after
ward, thereby much offending that i'm
perious social leader) in the hope of
again hearing some chansonette, or old
derman lied, sung in a prime rich
voice, was beginning to think unin-
vitable.
Five days slipped by and not once
was I afflicted with Mile. Valerie's
music.
En- revanche, quite unknown to the
'ongstress, often had a nightly con-
cert all to myself which I would not
have given up for any consideration.
Sometimes mans voice, refrained
and gentle, would ask for some special
air, and sometimes I would hear the
chatting together, and gay, bright,
feminine laughter, which was as mu-
Sical as her songs.
Il have changed my mind, Mmc. Eu-
genie; I will not give up my rooms. but
will stay the year out. am not at al,
by Mile. Valerie's music" I
said finally to my landlady.
She gave me rather quizzical look.
and answered demurely. "Bien, mon
sieur"
May was upon us with it's buds and
lowers and the old French part OF
town was alive with little yelled fig
lres. The children making their first
communion trooping to the various
churches and notably the st. Louis
cathedral, whose square in front of the
ancient towers and belfry was one mass
0f OdOrOus bloom.
l came home one day, driven thither
by slight indisposition, a languid
spring fever, which required dark
ened room, and the cool quiet of the