The Bon Homme County independent. [volume] (Tabor, S.D.) 1904-1913, 1907-11-14

ing her change of expression, but
feared you might think me bold. You
see. / am taking the bull by the horns.
Some instinct told me"
The instinct is wrong" she inter-
rupted dropping her yes to the key
board. II do not sing"
mo? Then / shall miss q great
pleasure which I lac promised my
self. You have a singing voice"
There was a penetrating Fascination
about the man which compelled her
to lift her eyes to his. He was smil-
ing, radiant, triumphant. as a general,
confident of victory, lust swinging into
battle. She shivered slightly, as he
bent closer and added something in
q tone OF voice too low to be heard by
the others In the room.
She flushed M her fingers crashes
out an indignant chord of protest.
Drysdale, drawn by some compelling
uneasiness. approached them. Ire
maine q been turning over the music
as he talked: his ears, sensitive as a
cats, caught the sound OF Drysdale's
footsteps.
Shall we try this one?" he asked
aloud, and placed a sheet on the rack
before her.
without answering. she swept into
h prelude.
"'You'n love me yet!-and I can tarry
Your loves p~rotrocted growing:
June reared that bunch Of flowers you
carry
From seeds Of Aprirs sowing"
His voice was an admirable tenor,
and he sang the lines with a mean
ing and expression that brought the
warm blood to her cheek. When ii was
done, he acknowledged the applause
with a little bow. casting at DrysdaIe
a glance at once triumphant and ironlc.
And In that instant. Drysdale knew
that h song had not been chosen by
chance-that Tremaine had paused
to listen ut the stair head. A sudden
abyss yawned before him-here was a
rival who would pause al nothing;
wko already had about him a cer-
tain air of victory. Drysdale clenched
his teeth with a quick breath; well,
he would make the fight OF his life to
keep what he had Won.
More, more!" clamored Delroy.
You could make your fortune as a
stage lover, Tremaine."
"Ah, there is a difference between
the sham and the true said Ire
maine, In n tom full of meaning. You
are an excellent accompanist, Miss
Croydon; o know how to humor the
singer, and l need a lot OF humor-
ing.
"Wiu you give them an encore?"
she asked, disregarding the compli-
ment
Let mo See" he was looking at her
with eyes wonderfully bright. There
is a simple little melody they sing
at st. Pierre at the time Of the earn
tval. / think you could accompany it."
and he hummed the mir. Splendid!
That is it. You WIZ think the words
pretty. I'll sing them as they were
written, not as the Creoles have
changed them.
"spefifa aunnIireux aux niupoaa
Enfants dun brilliant sejour,
Vous ignorez ramertume,
Vous parlez solvent d'amour;
Vous mepriseZ la dorure,
Les salons, ct les bijoux;
Vous cherisseZ la Nature.
Petits ~oiseaux, becquetez-vous!'"
GO on, go on: don't stop!" cried
Delroy. There must be another verse.
1t wouldn't be a French song If there
wasn't"
There is" and Tremaine laughed;
"as usual, one that points a moral.
I hadn't intended to sing it-but-with
your permission, Miss Croydon"
She nodded, as she ran lightly
through a little improvised interlude.
Drysdale, from the other n of the
piano, wondered how Delroy could sud
denly develop such poor taste. Ire
maine glanced at him, as he began the
second verse; then he turned his eyes
upon Miss Croydon, smiling.
"'Voyez la bas, dams cette eglise,
Aupres d'un confessional,
LIE pretre, qui veut faire croire a Lise,
Qu'un braiser est un grand NAL:
Pour prouver a la mignonne
Qu'un baiser bien fait. bien doux,
Ma jamais damne personne,
Petlts ~o!seaux, becquetez-vous!"
Capital" cried Delroy. What next?
Come-the third verse;"
Blu Miss Croydon rose abruptly from
the piano. "0" ... ~.
No." she said; II protest. I've no
doubt 1t goes from bad to worse. I'm
afraid to listen"
you are wrong. Miss Croydon" said
Tremaine, smiling full into her eyes.
You do me an injustice. I assure
you there is no third verse;" and he
Joined the Delroys where they sat be-
Fora tho fro