Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1921-05-12
The Unknown
Tenor
20. 1891. Western Newspaper Union)
By MURIEL BLAIR

1
anon be bordered with roses of sweet
peace and solitude. The moments Of
bygone days may drift back TO you and
| tide your souls heavenward. In your
hearts you are not bad. You have
perhaps sinned and your sins have
identified you. But that does not hold
you from about-facing to home End
loved ones, who still trust you. There
is good ahead. When you have paid
the county Its penalty be sure you
show that sins Identity was not com.
plete."
1t was song service day at the work.
house. .t
"Now," said the minister, Tets sing
that good old song, BLESSED Be the Tie
That Binds Everybody sing. Many
of you have good voices"
The little chapel organ began and
the leader pitched the tune. Before
the second verse was reached the
chapel was filled with music. Then
The visitors bent forward and scan
ned the faces Of the prisoners. 4
voice somewhere among them rang
out In rich tenor, clear and clean as
q clarion call. 1t carried its notes as
might super-chorister. The old song
echoed and re-echoed through the cell
halls, and the tenor led the rest.
There was voice that might have
drawn encore and encore from the
most fastidious and critical audience.
Yet it was among the prisoners. But
where?
Next day music lovers went through
the workhouse looking for the man
"'who sang tenor at the song service.
He was not found. They went among
the prisoners and asked. No one seem
ed to know.
Could 1t be that famous songster
had fallen?
The critic who had discovered
voice would not be satisfied. He
imagined beautiful mystery in the
singers reticence That he was
prisoner was certain. He had been
seen. And he bore the prisoners
label.
SO they looked again at priso,.er
after prisoner and into cell after cell.
In the last cell but one man was
reading. They were walking noise
lessly and he did not see them. II
was song book he held. Then he
looked up, quietly slipping the book.
back-up, on the bunk. He arose and
TUNED to the narrow windows bars.
Some one called to him. Apparently
he did not hear. They called again.
How they wished they had been abE
to use his name. But how could they
know it?
step this way-you at the WINDOW
we want to speak to you
He started, as if undecided. They
knew he heard. Then very. very slow
ly and timidly he came to them.
1t was the tenor
"Where did you get that voice-that
tenor?' one asked abruptly.
"Oh, | thought you had another war
rant for me-when I get out. Is that
all you want? Honest?"
1--WE have no warrant for you. We
do not know anything about you. But
we want to know about yourself
about that voice. We've come to
help you. That tenor has no place In
q wOrkhOuse."
They had found a singer who had
not found himself. They led him to
talk.
"When | was q boy l used to sing
In Sunday school. A big fellow from
the church choir once told me that ]
would be 1eat singer some day
that I had voice to be envied. But
l never tried. When ! got grown
followed the boys. I've been here be-
fore-after a whiz-and that day was
the first time ever sang like man.
The sky-guide somehow got on my
nerves and made me forget. have
been in this time ffty-fve days. Just
got Eve now. I'm glad, too. for I'll
never be back. Worst time I could
have picked"
The singer paused and swallowed
hard.
"MMife's sick-God's best little won.
an; little girl-my one best bet-shesi
got diphtheria. got to thinking wheE
the fellow said ! was not bad, and
when he started the old song | had
10 sing-till you saw me. I've got .
good voice? Do you know If might
help-T
He stopped and turned back to the
little window. He looked up through
the bars to the sky and his face re.
gained some of the soul-light 1t had
when he sang. Then he faced about.
IF my baby can live"
"You will be. out tonight" said one
who seemed to know. "The mayor
will pardon you this afternoon. Sing
the sick ones back to health, then
come to me some day. will tell you
worth while"
The big tenor's face stared wonder
ingly into the future.
They shook hands with him and
passed down the corridors. No one
spoke. But as they neared the end OF
the cell rows they heard a song follow.
Ing, passing. leading them. 1t seemed
on its way to the former derelicfs
home.
And as they passed out the groaning
gates the silvery tenor notes bore
to them the beatitude:
BLESSED be the tie that binds"