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Show MARTHA'S CAREER. Martha was a farmer's daughter in the middle west, a daring, self-willed girl, always full of great dreams and ambitions. The day after she was graduated grad-uated from the high school she went to her father. "I am going to Xew York." she announced, "to learn to be a singer. I'm old enough I'm 18, and I have the $300 Aunt Minta left me. It's no use trying to prevent me; I shall run away if you don't let me go." So Martha went to Xew York and began her study. Fortunately, she secured a good teacher, and for a few weeks worked joyfully. Then one day her teacher detained her after the lesson. "Miss Reid," she said, "I feel that I am wronging wrong-ing you if I do not speak to you frankly. You are putting your life into your singing. May I -ask you what you hope to do with your voice?" "I mean," the girl answered, defiant because of the sudden fear that caught at her heart, "to be a great singer. I know I'm poor, but what difference does that make? I'll earn the money. Others have done it, why shouldn't I ?" The teacher's eyes met hers pityingly. "It is hard to say. Miss Reid, but I could not forgive myself if I did not tell you the truth; we see so many tragedies here. You never can make a great singer; you have not the voice. You have voice enough to give much pleasure to yourself and others, to help in a thousand ways " The girl broke in rudely. "You are telling me that I can sing in Sunday school," she retorted. "Thank you; that isn't my idea of life." She left her teacher and went straight to another, an-other, to whom, in spite of herself, she let the story slip out. The "professor" sympathized with her, tried her voice, declared himself enthusiastically her advocate, and once more the study began and the dreams. But now a new difficulty appeared; she was almost at the end of her money. Troubled, yet hardly doubting, she asked the professor to help her find some way to use her voice. Then the professor's pro-fessor's smooth manner dropped and he broke out into a tirade, to which she listened too stunned to answer. Five minutes later she left with his last word ringing in her ears : "Voice? You could not sing in one thousand years !" The Xew York papers the next day reported the suicide of a young girl at such and such a street number. Xo reason known. It is a terrible story, but only too common. There are those who speak pityingly of the great mystery, of the "artistic temperament" with no power to create the beauty of which it dreams. It is a mystery, but the tragedy was not there. It was in the selfishness, vanity and cowardice that shirked the duty of building a life out of the talents and opportunities given. Youth's Companion. |
