Newark evening star and Newark advertiser. [volume] (Newark, N.J.) 1909-1916, 1913-07-02
THE PEn PITTTOM By WILL IRWIN
l. by Merrill Il
Copyright by Bobbs-Merr1ll Company

In Ave minutes more Betsy Barbara
summoned tact to the aid of man
ners and maiden modesty. Sne m
vented an excuse to shield herseiI
against Spanish politeness, and lett
Estrilla bowling gravely at the
threshold.
Retsv-Barbara thought first of her
responsibility. Silently she opened
Constance,s door and tiptoed TO Inc
bed. Her lady of troubles was asleep.
BY the night lamp which constance
kept burning against the demons %
her night thoughts, Betsy-Barpara
noted the growth of lines In the re-
Taxed face. She sighed and crept pach
into the hall There she hesitated ~
moment. The house seemed deserted.
It was too late for Yenturing lorth
alone, yet, somehow, she must e@-
orcise the vague black visions winch
began to surround her--she who must
keep courage for two. Also, some-
thing which she could not analyze
was stirring disquiet in her soul.
IF 1 only had some work." sne
said to herself, and sighed again. so
medttating, she wandered aimlessiy
down stairs. The doors of the parlor
were open; the lights were on; the
babv-grandpiano stood open, invite
ing.
aOniy merry tunes, though" she
warned herself as she sat down. Ana
she started the liveliest jig she knew.
Presently she began to sing in her
nieasant unframed voice, which woor
bled entrancingly whenever she got
out of the middle register. But music
is the slave of moods. And before
she was aware her voice was foliaW-
ing the strings in old and melancholy
love songs. Now 1t was Loeb Lo-
mond--
"By yon bonnie banks
And by yon bopny braes,
Where the sun shines bright on Loon
Lomond--"
At this point, Betsy-barpara
dropped her hands from the Keys
and the music stopped abruptly. she
was lust aware that a fine hoating
tenor had been hurnming the part
from the doorway. Senior Estriila
stood looking down on her.
INV seester has gone to Sleep he
said. And then, THAT is Scotch
song, is it not? Please go on. Betsy
Barbara smiled, nodded, resumed ner
keys, and they sang together
"where me and my true love
Were ever wont to gaze
On the bonnie, bonnie banks OF Locn
Lomond."
When the song was finished, Es-
trilla leaned on the piano and looked
down at Barbara. His mood
seemingly had changed; it was his
whim to talk.
"They are little cold on the sur
face, those Scotch love-songs, ne
said, though warm beneath, like
volcano. Now we who speak Span
ish-we can throw our emotions TO
the surface"
Don't you think, responded Betsy
Barbara, that to conceal it-but to
show it's there's the more wonder
full way after all?"
The blood of the MacGregors In
Betsy Barbara was calling her to the
defense of her own.
do you happen to know any OF
our Spanish songs?" pursued Estrilla-
only 'Juanita,' I think-and La
Paloma.'"
Estrilla looked as though he might
have laughed but for Spanish polite
ness.
"Those are Spanish for outside con-
sumption, as when the English call
your cheap--oilcloth is it not Amer
lean cloth Let me sing to YOU
but a Spanish song does not go well
with the piano"
There's a guitar over in the al
cove" announced Betsy Barbara.
Far seeing maiden! exclaimed Es-
trilla with such delicious Spanish
roll on the vowels that Betsy-Bar-
bara laughed a little, and he. as
though understanding, laughed with
her.
: So he tuned the guitar, Betsy-Bar-
bara finding the key for him on the
piano, and while he tweaked the
strings he made comment on them,
as:
"This-you hearts the angel
string. It is for celestial harmonies.
One cannot go wrong on this string,
but 1t is too fine and high to make
all our music. This is the man.
string. You can go very right or
very wrong on this one" These
one" he pronounced 1t; and he drew
out the vowels as though lingering
on the thought. This is the woman
string. Listen--how discordant now!
tune 1t to the man-string, for am
god of this little world-and now how
beautiful"
"You are talking poetry!" said
Betsy Barbara; and thought of the
phrase as somewhat awkward.
"Ah, but I am inspired" replied
Estrilla.
Gle surely doesn't mean me-"
thought Betsy Barbara, that would
be too delicious!" However, he was
looking not at her, but at the guitar).