Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1916-12-22

Strive ever in vain for +ho
clear, ueteranee
sings. SPIRIT NAT
And jewel the song with tho
tear. Ne gam oe
For the harp of the minstrel
a tone never
AS sad as the song in b,s
night, "OSoGs To-
And the magical touch of h,s a.
alone ""eers
Cannot waken the echoas e..
breathe it Alright.
mad read the lines over TO mvso,s
and although recognizing many tovobn'
decidedly like those of the fon,o,,a
thor of "Lalla Rookh," | was no. -, au-
ly satisfied with the production ana -
struck me with peculiar force that On
ethereal composition would surely no.
be so lavishly tihctured with unn+toy
able sorrow-aside fror being far -
ferior to a hundred earthly SONGS 90
Moore's. So, with this argument e.
my weapon, | determined to conopar
the superstition that had almost over.
powered me. | had noticed. too in
Dotn former instances singular fact
The old man, though so ready to fond
Off all comment that might refect -
single ray of praise upon himself. lis
tened with more of the air of a critic
than one whose interest was merely
that of curiosity, and still when tha
tragmentary productions were read
aloud, Look of more than ordinary
satisfaction would tighten ND his ewes
The facts, hastily reviewed, deter
mined me upon course of action | had
instant opportunity to adopt.
"Read it aloud" said the old man
impatiently; read it aloudr
| complied with more than usual
enthusiasm, reading verbatim from the
copy until | came to the repetition of
the first four lines, which 1 thus trans.
posed, or, rather, paraphrased.
''The harp of the minstrel has never
note
AS sad as the song in his bosom ex.
pressed,
And the magical touch of his fingers
afloat
Drifts over the echoes that sleep in
the breast"
This I was careful to deliver without
emphasis or mark of any kind by which
he might discover any imposition on
my part. AS closed / stole a hasty
| glance at his face, and was gratifed
to find 1t wearing a rather startled ex.
preston: not only did his features be.
tray puzzled and questioning air, but
his hand was mechanically extended
as though reaching for the paper in
my own.
DO you want to see itT' l asked
suddenly, handing him the scrap.
'Yes, I-Oh, no-no," he broke in
dropping his hand, and his face col
ored wildly. But turning again as
quickly, he added: ''Yes, give it to me-
Where are the others? 1 must be &C.
ing"
"Why must you go?" 1 asked, still
retaining the scrap; Il had hoped"
II am going!" he interrupted brusk.
ly, snatching up the scraps that lay
upon the counter, and reaching for the
one | still held. "Give me the poem l
will trouble you no longer"
"Allow me to retain it, beg of you"
said |, with significant smile, and the
slightest tinge of sarcasm in my voice
Let me keep it as BETTING memen-
| to of the inspiration l have seen so
potently exercised"
His face was pale with anger as he
replied:
II will not. When you want rhyme
write it yourself. You can at least
write doggerel."
"Very neat" said I, laughing. awe
understand each other, so let's be
friends. Here is my hand and dol
lar besides Give me the other scraps
Il want them all"
| I took them from him as he clutched
at the bill, which he smothered in his
palm, and then turned away without
a word.
''Here, Charley" called one Of the
bystanders, half of that's enough for
you tonight"
The door slammed violently and he
was gone.
"Old Cain will have that dollar in
just five minutes" continued the man.
'And who's Old Cain?" asked.
''Keeps the doggery just over the
line"
"Old Charley" NJ is q we'll
known character in Union City-hlS
home, in fact, although he often dis
appears for long periods, but, as Iay
informant remarked, always turns up
again like bad penny"
His story of his early life is at least