The Mena weekly star., 1908-07-09
THEY LOVE.
 MUSIC
She Was Not to Be Dissuaded Though He Only Got SIS Per.
Iob I love music,' he cried.

slightly parted in the very breathless ness of her regard.
 "Ah, yes said he, "ah, yesl The blaring of the brasses and the signing of the woods Would you have mel ancholy? It 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 a 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 |" she cried.
 Impulsively he held out his hand and impusively she took it.
 We will love music all our lives" she whispered, "all our lives-togeth- erl"
 Suddenly then his glowing look van ished and over his features there passed an expression of inquiry. feaI and doubt. Gently he sought to with draw his hand, but she held it tightly pressing 1t with silent declarations of love and esteem and letting him know by the soft engagement and re taxation of her grasp that when II came to music she, too, was there with a 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, 1t was the twid dly bits, the twiddly bits, the twiddly bits; oh yes, it was the twiddly bits that stole her heart away.
 Yes, yes" she whispered, 'all ou. 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, 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 insteadl' she cried. Garden, Caruso. Tet-tet-tet-what hei name is-O, how long to hear her singl We'll have nice little auto mobile. one of those that's all closed in. and we'll go and see them alto getheri 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- CT: 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.
 An utomobile-pshaw,' she ex' claimed 'I would much rather have a nice carriage Or we could hire one," she laughed. What fun, Dear mel And. anyhow, the music is the thing. The rhythm and the sweep os 1t, its manifold moods of joy, It's woes. it's passions An, mel"
 q don't like the operas" he grum. bled, his eyes anguished and his feet shuffling the carpet. 'T hate them. l have always hated them from child. Now. look here. I think there's some misunderstanding
 An" she cried ~ know what it Is you like, l knowl It's the concerts at the seashore--in the pavilions-on the sand. And so do l. dear and so do I! Oh, to sit on the beach. heart to heart and hand in hand, to hear the strains of harmony that mingle with the moaning of the tidel"
 She gazed at him with sentiment profound, and she looked at him mer. rily, swinging his hand and arching her brows at him until fin his inner most soul he muttered: Hang it, she isn't so badi" But aloud he said: "l don't go away in the summer"
 q have always said" she cried de llghtedly, that there is no place ir the summer like the city No. sirl Nowhere! And we'll have one of those plano players, dear, and collection of the best old classics, and, O. what happy, happy hours we'll spend to- sether! Bach Beethoven Etude! An feel so happyl"
 Swinging his hand again. pressing 1t with affection the while, she began:
 'Dinna ask me if love ye.
 Truth. daurna tell
 Ard then not only did she swing his hand blt he swung hers, and in- stead of avoiding her glance and setting his saoe in the cast of stones he looked ai her right sweetly in the eye and thought her wondrous fair,
 But look here, girl" he said. T only get SIS week, and those plano players and concerts and operas and things
 We'll" sho whispered, her eyes