The Dolores star., 1909-05-14

troduce myself to you. am only An
gelo-but l had the bliss OF being
born In Milan the musical. the di-
vine. l have been in this terrifying
America long years trying to teach
the art Of singing. trying to build
voices where there are none. trying to
as yours. Alas, the unkind horror OF
1t ALL" He hurried to the door, took
his handkerchief from the keyhole.
wiped the tears from his eyes, then
stuffed It into the keyhole again.
Most exquisite of mademoiselles,"
he exclaimed. returning and pressing
the picture to his breast, Il am poor
frightfully. am old-dreadfully
am ugly-nnspeakably. But l cherish
a superb ambition! Listen, little one.
Almost one year ago l gave up teach
ing-forever. l saved little money
on which l planned to live one year
one year to the day the hour, the
minute. In this year I was to write
the great opera. The theme had haunt
ed me for quarter OF century. II
had dogged, deafened, blinded. choked,
stified me, demanding my life. my
soul. until l had to surrender myself
to 1t unreservedly. The great opera
had to be written. II had to write IL.
self-through me. But alas. where
should find the voice? began the
awful search. l went to operas.
musical comedies. churches and con
certs. The days. the weeks. the
months slipped by-and found II not.
4 =, tod for n 1.ar L.. l.
street, in poverty's holes. In vain.
So tonight with but one week
OF my year left had given up
hope wien heard yodr heav.
enly High c. little one-and oh, the
burden 1t lifted from my soul. In this
one little week I shall write the greai
opera-but you must not fail me! Fo,
at the years beginning vowed tina,
II NJ its end l had not written the
opera and found the voice. should
die. See. here is the pistol. loaded
here. beside you on the table-Hush!
your High C again?" He listened. mo
only my imagination. Well. kiss your
lily hand anyway-ah, you have no
hand? Your cherry lips, you say? No.
no. l am not worthy. Just the
hem of your garment-ah, but ! see
you haven't any on! See as com
promise. kiss the name of the pho
tographer. Thrice happy man to have
posed you!"
Angelo placed Mile. Jolie upon his
little old wobbly piano. draped a
wreath OF wtthered autumn leave.
around her. blew out the light. drew
back the window curtain. then In .
moonbeam sat down to compose. The
MUSES. must have been waiting round
about. for ip a moment he was playing
softly. The Inspiration fairly flowed
Angelo was In heaven. That greatest
OF joys. the. JOY Of artistic creation.
was his. He played long time-un.
til the moon went down. Then by
the yellow lamplight he wrote down
what he had played.
For two days and night he slept
but little and ate nothing; the divine
fire needs no replenishing! The hap
piness that the years had denied him
was his at last TO measureless extent.
Like Israfel's. his heartstrings were
a lutte, and the Cosmos itself was
busy playing upon him!
The second night he felt quite
earthly faintness within him. II am
not hungry. little one." he said to
Mademoiselle Jolic, 1T Is simply my
stomach"
But the call of his stomach was in
sistent, so he put on his hat-and his
goggles-and ventured into the hall
The light of the smoky hall lamp was
80 dim, however. that he feared he
might fall all the way downstairs. so
he took of the goggles and then
crept down noiselessiy step at a
time. He got out OF the house with
out meeting Mademoiselle Jolie. with
out even meeting the landlady. for
which he thanked God with gusto.
With some beef broth and crackers
inside him he returned to the house: :
and now 1t was that his good angel
deserted him. He was half way UP
the stairs when a strange young man
ran up behind him, pushed him against
| the wall. laughed boisterOusly, and
then--crowning y!--disappeared
in Mademoiselle Jolie's room!
How he reached his own room out
ragged Angelo never kuew--but In g
moment he was pointing his loaded
| pistol first at his own head. then at
Mademoiselle Jolie's picture. then at
the piano. then at the score Of the un
finished opera. But glorious inspira
| ton seized him just in time.
Her brother!" he cried. falling on
his knees and weeping for joy, her
| poor, long lost brother! Most chaste
and noble Of mademoiselles. can you
ever forgive me?"
Early next morning there was q
knock on Angeles door. He knew the
landladys peremptory tap, 80, shiver
ing with terror. did not answer. But
the landlady knew Angelo. too. She