The Richfield recorder. (Richfield, Idaho) 1909-1931, 1913-01-30
AN OLD LOVE SONG
BY HENDERSON WELSH.

lovers quarreis usually are-bu
Dick would not admit it so far al
his part was concerned. OF course
Eloise had been foolish in thinking
he would tolerate any such treatment
She was heartless and III no
care, and he had been we'll w.A!n his
rights In lea rt< e D. 7'~i
But wheth~r @S@ 1snt o.
foolish, he was very lonely nov. Cat
tie ranching has its charms, but they
are not sufficient to soothe the heart
that longs for a certain girl-even II
the head related to the heart does
not admit the longing.
Today his mind had drifted back
to her more than ever before. Perhaps
this was because 1t was his birth
day.
He pulled himself together with a
jerk and pushed his horse into a gal
lop that banished all unhappy
thoughts for the time.
That evening the lonely thoughts
came ~trooping back, as he lay sprawl
ed on the grass near the ranch
house. The night was beautiful, just
such another as that night had been.
A great loneliness filed him and he
vainly tried not to think of Eloise-of
Eloise and her singing.
Eyes, she could sing" he admitted
grudgingly, but she was cold and
cruel. She did not care-so why
should 1? l ought to have more pride;
and havel" he snapped, as he
thought that settled it "She has
forgotten me long ago. he added bit
terly.
Then, through the stiffness, came
from the house a few chords that
struck him like a blow. He knew them
SO we'll. Then came a voice:
'Eloise!" he cried, leaping to his
feet.
forgotten you? Well, if forgetting
be longing with all your heart
The words were ringing clear in
such a voice as has seldom been
heard on land or sea.
Dick sank to the ground. His legs
refused to bear him. That song was
for him-sung as she had sung it for
him five years ago!
Dicks heart, also, was pulsing wild
ly as the song died away and life
flooded back into him. He sprang up
and raced to the house. What or
whom he expected to find there, he
scarcely knew. What he did find was
the ranch family and most of the
boys crowded about a most modern
singing machine. He elbowed through
them.
"That-that record" he demanded.
Lets see that last record"
"Surel" said the rancher reaching
back in the cabinet for it. Wasn't
that great? I heard her sing in Den
yer Monday night and I tried to get
several of her records, but this is the
only one. 1t seems she has refused
to sing any other song for the com
panies. Funny, too. that the latest
prima-donna should pick an old love
song like that"
Dick had grabbed the record and
on it read "~Forgotten,' Soprano Solo
by Mile. Eloise Remey." He could al
most have kissed that record.
'Mr. Miles," he turned to the ranch
er. "herding is pretty slack right now.
Can't you spare me for a few days."
"Alph," he called, 1--we got to catch
the midnight flyer. VIII you ride in
with me and bring back my horse?"
But Dick heard none of the chatting.
His ears were ringing with the song.
All the ~galloping way to the train,
then on and on to Denver, he heard 1t.
There he found that the prima donna,
to whom America had suddenly bowed
the knee, had gone on to San Francis
CO.. The next train took Dick.
He reached there too late to see
her before the performance, but he sat
through it entranced while Eloise
poured out her soul in wonderful
song.
Had she forgotten him? Would
she forgive him?
When the two faced each other,
neither had to ask such questions.
Eyes told in a flash what tongues
might long stumble over.
You have been such a long time
coming" she said.
Yes. 1t was my foolish pride-and
then I thought you had forgotten me
until l heard that song"
Il sang it for you" she said, sim
ply. "Of course I love to sing, but
1t was for you chiefly that went into
opera. l thought sometimes
you might hear, and if you loved me,
you might come back to me. Then.
when the photograph company want
ed me to sing for them | refused and
then I thought that If | sang Forgot
ten as l used to sing it to you, you
hear 1t and at least remember
the old days" And then she added
happily I'm so glad | did"