The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-06-23
(Contfnued.l

E,or soma unknown reason. Caleb felt happier than he had for days. He was ashamed of the feeling. but so strong was if that he made no further demur Paople were starting for the music room. 'Piloted by Desiree. (who man aged to make it perfectly clear 10 CIV CTS ard sundry youths. en route. that she was quite content to remain with her present escort) Conover found him self at last enthroned on madden ingly uncomfortable camp-stool: with the girl at his left side.
 The musicale opened with long. in tricate piano solo: played with splen- did persistence by a short young man with long hair The night was not The bright-lit. overcrowded room was hotter Caleb had eaten largely and had drunk more than was his wont. There Is something very soporific to the Philistine outlander in rendition of ult-a-classfcal music long sustain ed Conover shook himself impatiently to scare off the drowsiness that threat ened to enmesh him. Desiree glanced at him with merry encouragement as the tireless pianist's last reluctant note was followed by, a ripple of civil ap- plause. The clapping and Desiree's look combined to bring Caleb's drowsy senses back to normal wakefulness.
 That chap" he whispered. 'cant play anywhere near as good as you do Lord. but he hit that old pianner some cruel ones! After he'd tired it all out. too: so it couldn't get back at him. I bet them keys wish they had your white little fingers pedtin tin, ,em 1,in instead t turn going to be?''
 "A tenor solo," she answered. Its the 'Siciliana' from Cavalleria Rusti- cana Oh. good! It's to be accom- panied by the harp It always ought to be. think. Don't your"
 ''Sure!" responded Caleb. with an air of loyal certainty.
 But Desiree was too much engrossed l4 %o o5 1ich irr1
 A few staccato chords: then began the song. At first oppressed horidity of phrase: then passion bursting stark ly through the convention of stilted word and melody: rising at last to crescendo where speech failed and hot-gasped "A-ahi" broke off the strain.
 To Caine listening impassive on the the air conjured up it's picture as wildly as though the scene lay before his eyes. Gray dawn in the gray walled Sicilian village. high on the above the sleeping hamlet One figure half hidden by the abutting angle of the stone houses. the only human be- ing abroad. One aRure.-a man. guitar beneath the easement of the woman he had won-lost-and wrongfully won again. Turiddu. the returned soldier serenading Lola. 1ckle wife of Alfio the aOSenL tedmSter. AlllO uiiueT WIiOSe knife-thrust Turiddu was destined to fall. before the yet unrisen sun should stand at high noon above their sordid little village world. And. contemptu- ous of his half-susDected fate, the wooer was singing to the woman whose love was to bring him death
 Mad. undisciplined. lawless adoration now moaned. now cried aloud. in both air and words. What mattered the holy day. the averaging husbands steel. the forsaIxep Santuzza. who was sob ping alone somewhere in that huddle of blind houses? Love was king. The pirate love who knows it's stake is death: and. unafraid. tempts its fate. zee scrito sanRue so prala tua porta-: Ma di restarci me non me n 'importa!'
 Then in a last burst of gloriously insane protestation: "Si per te muojo vado in Paradise. Non c'eatro SC non vedo il turo bel
 visor
 And that yearning. word1ess passion fraught cry wherein supreme longing rushed beyond the bounds of speech.
 A rumbling mutter of the harp And silence
 "The sublimated howl of a back | fence tom-cat!"- muttered Caine. to himself: the garish brain-picture fad ing. Il
 A momentary tense hush fell over the | audience as the final chords trailed off | into nothingness- Then. before the ut | ter stiffness could be, broken by the burst of ensuing applause, another | distinct. vibrant, | cut raggedly through the breathless quiet. The sound of a full
 Caleb Conover was sleeping like a child.