Stadium High School - Tahoma Yearbook (Tacoma, WA)

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20 THE TAHOMA position into which the best of his life had gone had been his great hope. When he found his life-work all al mistake, and his great dream shattered, all was gone. Nothing mattered. , Having been brought home, the lover of music lay unconscious for hours. Finally, regaining consciousness for a few moments, he found Hilda bending cver him. Hilda, girl, it's alll over, the music was all a mistake. Oh, how I was going to do so much for you, and I-- but he was unconscious again. He lay for weeks very ill, but at last Hilda's love triumphed. He asked for the opera, but when Hilda brought it to him, he turned his face the other way and said, Take it away! I never want to see it againg I think that I hate it. So she took it away. Several years went by. Hilda and her father were living in a poor quarter. Carl Steam was a broken hearted old man. He was always unhappy. Sometimes he went into the room, where the piano was, locked the door, and would play softly. Finally he began again to write down the music. Sometimes when he was bitter and when his heart was nigh breaking. he played, and little by little wrote, and he wrote as he felt. The music was sad and at limes bitter. It was not intended to be great as was his first masterful dream. It was an outpouring of his soul. He knew that the end was near, and wor- ried for Hilda's sake, but welcomed it for himself. One day there came to the quarter a wealthy young American, Arthur Rex, whose love for adventure led him into places which his companions dis- dained. He was lost, and wandered aimlessly about. Being suddenly at- tracted by the sound of soft music, he stopped and listened. Not much, but more civilized music than one usually hears in these German quarters, he thought. Being curious, he knocked at the house from which the music came. There is someone knocking, daughter, Stearn said. Hilda quickly opened the door. When Arthur saw the beautiful young girl standing there, he somehow got confused and said something about having lost his way. Her father, on hearing a new voice, came to the door and invited the stranger in. After getting the necessary directions, he left the quarter with a confused mem- ory of brown eyes, great beauty, and what a fool he had been. The following week he came back with a pretense of hearing the music lover play. Many days he came here, always with the same excuse. At first the old man regarded him with displeasure, but he began to look forward to his com- ing. He began also to tell the boy his story, of his hopes and dreams. HI- I failed, boy, I failed, and I longed, and I longed, so very much to be great, to have my opera charm hundreds and hold them enthralled. My opera-you can't know just what these two words meant to me. I loved it, my poor at- tempt, and believed in it. I have been writing some sinceg it may become an

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THE TAHOMA I9 His Masterpiece Miriam Zeller, ' I 3 Carl Steam, the lover of music, sat slowly playing over his finished com- position. By it he was to become famous-yes, he was sure of that. So he sat hour after hour, musing, planning, and dreaming of the glory that was to be his. He could leave his small German quarters and mingle with the men of whom he read and of whose society he craved. He had always longed for it. Again he went slowly over the manuscript. Ach, how beautiful it was! Music with him was a passion. It was live and real. Father! Oh, father, where are you? came to him softly across the hall. Before he could answer, his daughter Hilda was beside him. Oh, father, I've had the best time! l've been down the court and saw the Kaiser's parade. Listen, Hilda, said the old German. I have my opera finished. l will be great and famous: and you, you shall be a great lady. You are al- most eighteen. It can hardly be. Giirl, l've done my best for You. You have had the best I had, but it has been very poor. How can I forget the first time, when you were so small, and you looked up in my face. Girl, it seemed ,to me that my heart would burst, for that day your mother had died. i The morrow came, and with it all of the fervor and expectation of the yesterday. At nine the old man was ready, and at nine-thirty trudged out of his home and on his way. He walked very erect with his head thrown back: his eyes were kindled with a fire that spoke of triumph. The precious man- uscript he held tucked tightly under his arm. He looked like a conqueror, and felt as one. At the door of the studio he stopped a moment, then went in. Y To the old man, this studio was a holy place, for von Glieb was the mas- ter of music, and music was Stearn's god, worshiped from earliest boyhood. Well, said von Glieb, you have brought the opera? Good! Let me see it. Steam handed the package to the Master as though it were a sacrifice. Von Glieb passed the pages over hurriedly, then commenced to play. To Steam it was wonderful music and he listened breathless. The master played it through a few pages, then looked sharply at the old German: at first hesi- tatingly, then his eyes lost their sharpness and became tender. My friend, he said, we all make mistakes. God so thinks best. l am sorry for you. but your opera is worthless. Better I should tell you the truth than a falsehood' Carl Steam said nothing, reeled, and fell to the floor. He had so stead- fastly believed in his opera that failure had not entered his mind. The com-

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THE. TAHOMA 23 opera, but I don't believe that any one else could think of it as I thought Of it, for they could not understand. Some day, perhaps. When I feel like lt, I will play it through for you. Please, now! said the young man, who felt merely a kindly pity toward the composer. So the musician drew from under a table very carefully and with much love, an old manuscript and sat down at the piano. Maybe not a beautiful picture, but one to reverence, the old German made, as he sat there in the early evening with the sunset light softly illumining his silvery hair, pushed back from his temples. His haggard face was more peaceful. He shut his eyes and commenced to play,,softly at first, then he seemed to forget all the bit- terness of his failure. Hunger and trouble were far away and forgotten things. The music ran from a peaceful major into a wailing minor key, sadness and gaiety followed each other, there was joy and great triumph. He was the master of music. In seemed as if it were his reward for all that he had suf- fered and his reward was exceedingly great. The music grew wild, then sang of fairies in their glades, their dances, of the fragrance of flowers and of spring- time: then it grew deep and mournful as if all the bitterness of past years had returned. Lower and lower he bent over the keys, the music was very soft land very tender. It grew so faint that it could scarcely be heard, then stopped. 'Still the lover of music bent over the keys with his eyes closed. The young man spoke to him, and receiving no answer, went softly out. . There Hilda found her father at dusk, bent over the keys. His face was as though he had seen some beautiful vision. Perhaps he had. But it was the vision of death. That afternoon Arthur had gone back to his hotel strangely moved. He did not consider the music remarkable. Ah, he did not love music, he could not understand. Yet the old man had made a wonderful impression upon him. He could go back on the morrow, and take von Glieb with him. Von Glieb was a judge of music and could tell the real worth of the opera. Besides, there was the girl, yes, the girl.. Well, tomorrow he would make everything all right. The next morning at ten, the young man and the old master were nearing the house in the quarter in which Steam lived. Von Glieb felt that' he had come on a useless mission, but it was for pity of Steam, when he remembered that scene at the same hour so many years ago. Hearing no response to their knocks, they went in, but found no one. Going into the front room, they found the manuscript. Well, I suppose it will not do any harm to try it, said the master. As he is not here, it can give him no pains if he has made another failure.