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Show WILLfS VOICE I By JOSEPH OAUQHER M (Copyright, by Josepb 11. Uowlta ) ( Willie Dodgo, Just turnod 13, was I not only tho prido of his family, ho (I was tho admiration ot the community at largo. II IIo trilled like a bird, or what 1' 1 moro to tho purposo, ho sang llko u ll prlma-donna, and all who hoard him tl marvoled at his wonderful volco. IIo possessed much girlish beauty, and tl ho had tho gontlcst of dispositions El which no amount of adulation could n spoil, H Tho many flattering professional of- II fors mado him wero peremptorily ro- II Jectcd by his family. They coddled V. tho boy as carelully as they nursed ji his volco h Ills uncle, Mr. Robert Trlggs, tho UJ wealthy proprietor or several largo I nuctlon stores In tho city, had mado I WIllIu his special care Mr. Trlggs I1 Ir.tondcd (when the time came) that l his nophow should study under tho host masters abroad, but. In tho mean- I time, ho Bhould learn all ho could from I local talent I No oxpense was to be spared to mako Wllllo the greatest of modorn i tenors; that he would bo anything j olso novor, for u moment, wns enter- i tallied by Mr. Trlggs, who had said, moro than onco, that Heaven's great- 1 est girt to man wns a lyric tenor i voice, that a bass volco was n noccs- j sary evil, and that a dcop toned worn- j an was a visitation of Providence. Wllllo had Ictornod rrem tho vll-lago vll-lago music teacher all tho latter had to teach, and began preparations for his trip abroad. Tho event was colo-bratcd colo-bratcd by a musical cntortalnmont tendered Wllllo by the members ot tho First Congregational church. Tho concort camo off on tho ovo of tho boy's doparturo, and Mr. Trlggs had brought a score of musical frlonds from tho city to attest tho wonder, ful quality of his nophow's volco. Tho church wns crowded, and ' ovorythlng passed off moro than satisfactorily sat-isfactorily until the third number ot tho second part of tho programme. Then something happened: Wllllo'o volco had gotten away from him. Whllo ho was In the mlddlo ot an olabornto Wngnerlun nlr his volco suddenly sud-denly leaped threo bars ovor tho clofl It lingered there for an Instant, In-stant, and then as suddenly dlvod bo-low bo-low It. Attor Beo-sawlng In this manner man-ner for nearly a minute, Wllllo sat down, followed by silence. Soma thought that tbo hollows had burst, others that tho organ plpoa y woro out of Joint, but Mr. Trlggs, who was an authority, raised his hand. 9 "Tho boy's volco has changed," ho said; "and that's all thoro is about It." t Tbo gloom that Bottled ovor Sunny-vlllo Sunny-vlllo that night was not lifted for many months; and oven to this day tho wondorful gymnastics that Wllllo's volco went through that night aro not reforrcd to without a shudder. Wllllo was cntlroly oblivious, , strango to say, to that which to ovoryono olso was painfully ovldont, for ho continued In tho choir, notwithstanding notwith-standing tho mnny hints that his resignation res-ignation would ho accepted, and that ho Bhould bo reinstated whonovor his volco had established Itself upon a less uncortaln basis. Dut ho did not tako tho hint, until ono night at rehearsal re-hearsal 'Squlro Tllshop, tho bass, took him asldo. "Your volco Is tho most wondorful thing In the world. Wllllo," ho said. "Ono can novor toll what It's going to do next Ono mlnuto It's ballooning abovo high C, and tho noxt It's 'grubbing 'grub-bing undor low Q. Why don't you adapt It to a sliding scale?" "That's right, Willie," said Mr. Trainer, tho tonor, who had ovorhoard Mr. nishop. "Ilut If you can only mnnago to blond thoso two voices of yours I'll ndvortlso you as the groat and only duotcst on earth. Ill tako )ou on (ho road nnd mako your for" noforo tho tonor could finish ho lay sprawling under a bench, whllo Willie, Wil-lie, with hands clonchod and oyoa ablaze, stood glaring at tho bass. "Look horo, 'Squlro nishop," he squoaked, "I'vo stood this thing Just about as long ns I Intend to stand It. And It you or any othor man says a word to mo nbout my volco (horo his tones soared skyward) I I will-so will-so holp mo Hob, I will (now bis volco camo from tho depths) I'll punch his " bead!" In tho moanwhllo Mr. Trlggs was waiting with not n llttlo Impattonco for tho day whon Wllllo "with a tonor noto would sootho tho souls In Purgatory;" Purga-tory;" Seo "Aux Itallons," by Owon Meredith a day which, howovor, never camo, for Wllllo's volco ono night rosolved Itself Into tho doopost kind ot a most untunoful bass. |