Twice-a-week plain dealer. (Cresco, Howard County, Iowa) 1895-1913, 1906-03-02
So they danced the ouudrt,le.

artists cunning touch the instrument
was both the accompaniment and the
song, and Miss Betty, at first taking
the music to be wandering thread in
the fabric Of her own bright dreams,
drifted gradually to consciousness to
find herself smiling. Her eyes opened
wide, but half closed again with the
ineffable sweetness Of the sound.
Then voice was heard, eerily low,
yet gallant and clear, a vibrant bari
tone. singing to the guitar:
My lady's hair,
That dark delight.
Is both as fair
And dusk as night
know some lovelorn hearts that beat
In time to moonbeam twinklings fleet,
That dance and glance like Jewels there,
Emblazoning the raven hair.
"Ah, raven hair,
So dark and bright
What love lies there
Enmeshed tonight7
know some signing lads that say
Their hearts were shared and torn away,
And now az pearls one fate they share
Entangled in the raven hair.
"Ah, raven hair.
From such a plight
Could you not spare
One acolyte7
know broken heart that went
To serve you but as ornament.
Alas. a ruby now you wear.
Ensanguining the raven hairl"
The song had grown fainter and
fainter, the singer moving away as he
sang, and the last lines were almost In
audible in the distance. The guitar
could be heard for a moment or two
more, then silence came again. It was
broken by rustling In the room next
to Miss Betty's, and Mrs. Tanberry
called softly through the open door:
Princess, are you awaken Did you
hear that serenade?"
After pause the answer came hesi-
tatingly In small, faltering voice:
"Yes-if it was one. thought perhaps
he was only singing as he passed along
the street."
"Aha" calculated Mrs. Tanberry
abruptly, as though she had made an
unexpected discovery. "You knew bet
ter, and this was serenade that you
did not laugh at. Beautiful, wouldn't
let it go any further, even while your
father is gone. Something might occur
that would bring him home without
warning. Such things have happened.
Tom Vanrevel ought to be kept far
away from this house."
"Oh, 1t was not he," returned Miss
1,,io 4
not you
my dear" interrupted the other,
"Crailey Gray's specially ia talking
Most of the vagabonds can sing and
play bit, and SO can Crailey, partic-
ularly when he's had few bowls Of
punch, but when Tom Vanrevel touches
the guitar and lifts up his voice to sing
there isn't an angel in heaven that
wouldn't quit the place and come to
hear him! Crailey wrote those words
to Virginia Bareaud. (Her hair is even
darker than yours. you know.), That
was when he was being engaged to her,
and Tom must have set the music to
'em lately and now comes here to sing
'em to you, and we'll enough they at
you. But you must keep him away,
princess"
Nevertheless Betty knew the voice
was not that which had bid her look to
the stars, and she remained convinced
that it belonged to Mr.. Crailey Gray,
who had been too Ill few hours earlier
to leave the Bareaud house, and now,
with Fanchon's kisses on his lips, came
stealing into her garden and sang to
her song he had made for another
girl
If there was one person in the world
whom Miss Betty held in bitter con.
tempt and scorn, 1t was the owner OF
that voice and that guitar.
fTa he cnn inned