The Hattiesburg news. (Hattiesburg, Miss.) 1908-1917, 1908-07-21
THEY LOVE
MUSIC
She Was Not to Be DIssuaded
Though He Only Got St8 Per.

admiration she looked at him, eyes
sparkling, hands clasped and her lips
slightly parted in the very breathless-
ness of her regard.
"Ah. yes" said he, 'ah, yes! The
blaring of the brasses and the signing |
of the woods! Would you have mel
ancholy? 1t is the breathing of the
flute. Would you have triumph? oh,
listen to the comets tones. So !
could go through all the emotions, and |
oh, the tonals, the cadenzas, the min
inns, the ritardo and the sudden, sud- !
den stop: the silence! Ah!"
He paused. his eyes glowing on va
cancy. He made dreamy, graceful |
gesture and looked at her from the
corner of his eyes, drinking in her ad-
miration and absorbing all the tribute |
of her pantomime.
"And so do II" she cried.
Impulsively he held out his hand
and impulsiVely she took it.
I'VE will love music all our lives"
she whispered, "all our lives-togeth-
| er!"
Suddenly then his glowing look van
passed an expression of inquiry fear
and doubt. Gently he sought to with
draw his hand, but she held it tightly,
pressing it with silent declarations
of love and esteem and letting him
know by the soft engagement and re-
Taxation of her grasp that when it
came to music she, too, was there
with fond and true regard for the
most beautiful of all the arts and the
Interpretation of great souls long
dead; and that when it came to rhap-
sodies she could rhapsodize and when
1t came to passages of sadness she
could weep, but that taking one thing
with another it was, it was the twid-
dly bits, the twiddly bits, the twiddly
bits; oh yes, 1t was the twiddly bits
that stole her heart away.
Yes, yes" she whispered, "all our
lives-together!"
He looked at her then with the
muteness of entreaty, preserving the
attitude of formality, edging away
from her so that their clasped and ex-
tended arms grew taut and tight.
Every summer" she began in low
vibrating tones, 1--WE can go abroad
. and listen to the music in the cradle
of the art, Italy, Germany, France
together! When the music swells our
souls will be lifted into the infinite,
and when the grand chords sound we
will thrill in shudderful ecstasy.
Bayreuth, Paris, Milan, ah, how have
longed for them, and now we will see
them, dear-together!"
Now look here--look here'-he be-
gan.
"Or we can subscribe to the operas
here instead" she cried. Garden
Caruso, Tet-tet-tet-what her
name $50, how l long to hear her
sing! Well have a nice little auto
mobile, one of those that's all closed
in, and we'll go and see them ALTO
gether! You can invite your friends at
the bank. too, and we'll give opera
parties"
She patted his hand, and inwardly
he groaned and cursed the fate that
had led him to mislead her into think
ing that he was the mainstay and
bulwark of the bank where he daily
added long items of figures, in "Ledg-
er: Deposits A-G." And seeing that
| he was still silent and unhappy and
gave no answering echo to her mel
ody, she tried another and lower key.
IAN utomobile-pshaw!" she ex
claimed. Il would much rather have
nice carriage. Or we could hire
n one!" she laughed. What fun! Dear
J. me! And, anyhow, the music is the
g thing. The rhythm and the sweep OF
Z. it. its manifold moods of joy, its woes
it's passions! All, mel"
'I don't like the operas" he grum
bled, his eyes anguished and his feet
shutting the carpet, 81 hate them.
have always hated them from child
p Now, look here, l think there's some
t. Misunderstanding"
e "Ah!" she cried 'T know what it Il
d you like! know! It's the concerts
q at the seashore-in the pavilions-or
!, the sand And so do |, dear, and Sc
do l! Oh, to sit on the beach, hear
= to heart and hand in hand, to hear the
IL strains of harmony that mingle will
the moaning of the tide!"
'e She gazed at him with sentiment
d profound, and she looked at him mer
Il rily, swinging his hand and archint
d her brows at him until in his inner
r most soul he muttereds Hang it, sh'
:, isn't so bad!" But aloud he said: +"
:. don't go away in the summer"
- "I have always said," she cried de
70 lightedly, that there u no place il
the summer like the city. No, sir
Nowhere! And we'll have one of thos,
S, piano players, dear, and collection
e, the best old classics, and, o, wha
9. happy, happy hours we'll spend to
4 gether! Bach! Beethoven! Etude!
!; All, feel so happy"
I Swinging his hand again. pressing