The citizen-Republican. (Scotland, Bon Homme County, S.D.) 1???-19??, 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 old me-
The instinct is wrong" she inter-
rnpted dropping her eyes TO the key
board. Il do not sing"
"No2 Then | shall miss a great
pleasure which l had promised my
self. You have a singing voice"
There was a penetrating fascination
abou the nan which compelled her
TO lift her eyes 10 his, He was smil-
ing, radiant, triumphant, as a general.
confident of victory. just swinging into
battle. She shivered slightly. as he
bent closer and added something in
a o of voice too low TO be heard by
the Others in the room.
She flushed and her fingers crashed
out an indignant chord of protest,
Drysdale, drawn by some compelling
uneasiness, approached them. Ire
maine had 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
the prelude.
. ,You'l love me yet,-and I can tarry
Your loves protracted 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 it was
done, he acknowledged the applause
with a little bow. casting at Drysdale
a glance at once triumphant and ironic.
Ard in that instant, Drysdale knew
that tho song bod r,Dt hoo, ,lA-o- 49,,
chance-that Tremaine had paused
10 listen at the stair head. A sudden
abyss yawned before him-here was a
rival who would pause at nothing:
WHO already had about him a Ger
tain air of victory. Drysdale clenched
his teeth with a quick breath; we'll,
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."
All, there is a difference between
the sham and the true" said Ire
maine, in a tone full of meaning. You
are an excellent accompanist, Miss
Croydon; you know how to humor the
singer, and l need a lot of humor-
ing"
VIII YOU give them an encore?"
she asked, disregarding the compli-
ment.
with eyes wonderfully bright. There
Is a simple little melody they sing
at st. Pierre at the time of the earn
wal. l think you could accompany it,"
and he hummed the air. Splendid!
That is 1t. You will think the words
pretty. I'll sing them as they We're
written. not as the Creoles have
changed them.
Petits amoureux aux plumes.
Enfants dun brilliant sejour,
Vous isnorez famertume, .
Vous parlez solvent d'amour;
Vous mepriseZ la dorure,
Les salons, ct les bijoux:
Nous cherissez la Nature,
Petits o%iseaux. becquetez-vous!'"
Go on. go on; don't stop" cried
Deiroy. There must be another verse.
1t wouldn't be a French song if there
wasn't
There Is" and Tremaine laughed;
ras usual, one that points a moral.
| 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 end of the
piano, wondered how Delroy could sud
denly develop such poor taste. Ire
glanced at him. as he began the
second verse; then he turned his eyes
upon Miss Croydon. smiling.
"'.Voyez la has, dams cette eglise,
Aupres dun confessional,
LIE pretre, qut yeut faire croire a Lise,
Qu'un braiser est un grand NAL;
Pour prouver a la m%ignonne
Qu'un baiser bien fat, bIen doux.
Ma Jamais damne personne,
Petits ~o.seaux, becquetez-vous!'"
Capital" cried Delroy. "What next?
third verse!"
But Miss Croydon rose abruptly from
the piano.
Mo- she said; II protest. rye no
doubt IT 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. 1 assure
you there is no third verse; and he
Joined the Delroys where they sat be-
fore the fire.