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Water Valley progress. (Water Valley, Miss.) 1882-1918, April 18, 1903, Image 3

Image and text provided by Mississippi Department of Archives and History

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn87065501/1903-04-18/ed-1/seq-3/

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s TheTragedy I
I .of Toto l
| .. . J ★
* By ELLIS PARSER EUTLER *
HEN Kubelefsky had visited
every part of the ship and con
vinced himself that it had been de
serted, and that only Toto remained to
keep him company, be seated himself
on one of the steamer chairs that had
not been swept overboard during the
pale and gazed out over the sea.
“It is bad, bad!” he said, more to him
**lf than to Toto, and then his irre
pressible optimism asserted itself, and
lie added: “But things are not as bad
as they might be.”
11 was indeed bad. To be adrift in
mid-Atlantic on an abandoned steam
er. It was terrible! It was donner
blitzlich! And the ship all mussed up
and broken by the storm! But on
the other hand, there were endless
quantities of food, the ship did not
seem to be sinking, there was still
■Toto, and there was still his violin.
Things were really not as bad as
"they might be.
All the world knew Kubelefsky, the
magician of the violin. All America
remembers his hair, his art, his ec
centricities, his triumphs, and his
Tofo. His tour was one grand ova
tion, one round of teams, cheers and
kisses. Musical womanhood knelt in
rapture before his hair, throbbed with
his art, but, above all, talked about his
Toto. But every genius has his eccen
tricities, and Kubelefsky would not be
Kubelefsky without his Toto. Some
said he affected Toto for her advertis
ing value, but we who knew him best
■did him no such injustice. He loved
her. He loved her only as those great
souls that are set high above the world
by their surpassing genius can love
that which is lowly and soulless and
-animal.
now wuueieisKy ana xoto Happened
to be overlooked when the ship was
abandoned I cannot pretend to say.
Kubelefsky had been unutterably sick;
sick as only the great genius can be,
•and as he always was when the sea
was rough, and they may have left
bim, thinking him dead. But Toto had
not been seasick. She was a splen
did sailor. All cats are.
Yes, Toto was a cat; but she was
more than a cat, she was a friend, a
•companion, almost a lover, and in the
'weary weeks that followed the storm
®he was Kubelefsky’s refuge from sol
itude. She was his audience, his
plaudit, his appreeiator, and apprecia
tion is demanded by genius. Genius
lives on appreciation. , Fox weeks, as
■the derelict floated on the summer sea,
Kubelefsky lived on Toto’s apprecia
tion and canned goods. It is such
occasions as these that bring out the
noblest qualities. They are, as the
-advertisements of certain liniments
*ay, “good man and beast.”
Things were truly not as bad as
they might be. Kubelefsky had his
violin and he had Toto, and he drew
great solace frqm each. When he
pressed his chin against the vibrant
wood of the violin and drew the living
bow over its speaking strings, he for
got the world in an ecstasy of joy,
and when he glanced down at Toto,
fitting sedately and watching his eyes
tor the smallest, token of love, his soul
■was filled with contentment.
They had always been good friends,
bad Toto and Kubelefsky, but they
become more than that as week fol
lowed week. In all his walkings to
-and fro she followed at his heels, and
when he paused she would rub against
his> shins and purr with delight. He
talked to her as one would talk to a
•sweetheart. He fondled her, and held
ner in ms arms, and when he was
weary after playing a difficult rhap
*ody, lie would bury his hot face in her
soft fur and gain new strength.
Sometimes he would vainly specu
late whether he loved his violin or
“Toto the better, but he quickly put
auch thoughts aside, for why should
he think of distressing possibilities?
He lived for his violin, but Toto lived
^or him.
It was an odd companionship, these
'three; Toto, with her dove-colored
•coat, the violin, in its rich reddish
brown, and Kubelefsky, wjth long ra
"▼en locks. These three alone in the
midst of the boundless, desolate ocean.
It was the 15th of August that the
Urst break came to mar the happiness
•of the trio, and it was a violin string
"that broke. As the sickening “snap”
of the string interrupted the obligato
that Kubelefsky was executing, he
paused and tears rolled down his
cheeks.
“Poor thing! Poor thing!” he mur
mured, as he stroked the mutilated vio
lin, and Toto, seeing his grief, came
and laid her head gently on his foot.
“Thanks, Toto, sweetheart,” he said,
“you teach me to endure to be brave,
to be a man,” and he dashed aside the
tears.
It was soul-trying to play with one
•tring missing, but Kubelefsky was a
wizard, and none but he would have
known the loss, so sweet were the
tones die drew from the remaining
strings. But the loss had taught him a
lesson, and he used the violin less and
gave Toto more attention.
But why should I prolong this tale,
or render it one anguish long drawn
out? It is pleasant, I admit, to tell
of this trinity of dependence and love,
bw my heart is pained as I write,
fcr I cannot forget the sadness of
thft climax, and I must hasten on.
One by one the strings of Kubel
efsky's violin snapped, and each
catastrophe seemed like a snapping
of his heart string. When but one
string was left he confined his violin
exercises to a few short minutes each
evening, playing the “Carnival of
Venice,” without variations, as ar
ranged for one string by* Bounod.
It was not much, but it was some
thing, and without his violin Kubel
efsky would have been lost.
And tnen one evening the last
string broke!
The moon was nearing the west
ern horizon, and dark clouds were
crowding up from the. east, biu a
flood of silver light still suffused the
sea and the ship. Kubelefsky was
leaning with his back against a fun
nel, and Toto was sitting in the
steamer chair.
When the last string snapped,
Kubelefsky let his hands fall to his
side, and a depth of woe and
horror passed over his face so great
that Toto, knowing something was
amiss, sprang from her chair and
ran to him, mewing piteously.
As the first paroxysms of his grief
passed, Kubelefsky burst into tears,
and, bendiing down, seized Toto and
pressed her to his heart and walked
back and forth.
“You are my all now, Toto,” he
cried, “my last hope, my only friend!
You will not desert me, sweetheart.
\ ou will not fail me. In you I can
trust.” v
±119 cries were more like those of
one seeking- assurance than of one
speaking- a fact, and Toto licked his
hand and put a soft paw against his
cheek and sought in every way a cat
can to reassure him, and this gave
him great comfort. Presently he
became quieter and seated himself,
while loto lay in her customary
place on his lap he fondled his mute
violin as a mother might fonJl* her
dead babe.
Occasionally a tear would well in
his eye, but he would dash it aside,
crying:
No!. I will be brave! I have my
Toto.”
Again he would sway his body to
and fro, crying:
“My poor violin! My poor Strad!
So dead, so silent! Oh, I am bereft,
I am undone!”
Thus he passed the night, with
out sleep, and all the next day he
walked the deck constantly. He
would not allow Toto out of his sight
an instant. As the evening drew
near he became even more restless,
and when the hour arrived at which
he was wont to play his daily -“car
nival,” he fell under a cloud of mel
ancholy. The longing to hear the
voicf of his violin rent him in a thou
sand ways. He craved it as an opium
eater craves the drug, a« a drinker
craves alcohol. His nerves were un
strung, his hands trembled.
“And this!” he cried. “All this be
cause I have not one poor little
string, one piece of cat—”
He did not complete the word, tor
his eye fell upon Toto sitting at his
feet gazing up at him with trustful,
confiding eyes. Did she tremble as
he began the word, or was it his
imagination that deceived him? He
tried to put aside the thought that
had flashed across his mind. He
struggled with himself. But a power
greater than himself seemed to urge
him on. His poor, mute violin seemed
to cry out to him. His fingers seemed
to plead for the touch of the strings.
All the musician, all the artist, urged
him on. But when he glanced at
Toto—his friend, his companion, his
sweetheart—he paused.
It was midnight before the strug
gle was ended, and through it all
Toto sat patiently at his feet in per
fect trustfulness, purring a lore song.
When at last he moved his body
swayed and he staggered like one
drunk with wine, and for the first
time he shut Toto out as he entered
the cabin. When he came on deck
again he carried a bottle in his band,
and the label bore the legend,
“Chloroform!”
Toto had wandered away, but. as
Kubelefsky’s foot touched the deck
she came running toward him.
“Come, Toto,’* he said. They en
tered the dark cabin together, and he
closed the door.—N. Y. Times.
Mr. Belleav Finds Telepthones.
M. Paul Helleau, a French exquisite
who has recently been “doing” New
York, was asked when he returned
to that dear Paris the other day how
he liked the American metropolis.
“Ah a bas New York!” he cried, with
a shrug of disgust. “Nosaing but
telephonitis in ze air.” But, says
the Chicago Record-Herald, it was
perhaps only natural that M. Helleau
should have found the telephone ea
pecially in evidence.
Not Manx Cooks.
A Chicago man who advertised for
a cook and a music teacher received
nine answers to the former advertise
ment and 389 to the latter.
t
A 16-year-old girl runs a grist mill
at Lititz, Pa.
AN EXCHANGE OF SIGNALS.
Cade Sam—11 she won’t marry me for love or
for may good looks.
—Minneapolis Journal.
money she might marry ms
SCIENCE AND INDUSTRY,
A crop of potatoes on an acre of ordi
nary soil can be made to produce
300 gallons of alcohol.
A test of the friction of ballbearings
of different sizes at different speeds
has shown that at high speeds such
bearings fail completely. For ordi
nary pressures and speeds, their value
seems to have been overestimated, as
they give but little less loss by fric
tion than well-polished and thoroughly
soiled bearings of ordinary kinds.
Great expectations have been formed
of a process for the electrolytic ex
traction of zinc from its ores which
has been devised by M. De Laval, the
so-called “Edison of Sweden.” Zinc
ore occurs in considerable quantities
in Sweden and Norway and waterfalls
aie abundant, so that M. De Laval has
every natural advantage for the suc
cessful application cf his process.
At a meeting of the Gardeners’ So
ciety of Berlin, held recently, a sol
emn warning was read by a member
against the primula obconica, a pale
lilac variety of the popular winter
flower. It seems that this particular
variety, which is very prolific in bloom,
has tiny hair underneath the leaves,
and when these hairs come in contact
with the human skin they cause in
flammation. A member said that his
daughter had suffered for three years
from this inflammation, which also af
fected Her hair so much that she be
came bald. The only alleviation known
for the inflammation is a decoction
of creotin.
A new process for recovering the
great quantities of tin lost in tinned
iron waste has been patented in Swe
den. The material is placed in a vessel
of iron or other stronger electro-posi
tive metal than tin, and this recepta
cle is filled with caustic alkali, a de
polarizer—such as copper oxide—be
ing also provided. An electric current
is set up, the tin at the same time sep
arating as alkali stannate. When the
alkali has become saturated with
stannate, a current of carbonic acid
is injected into the solution, causing
the tin to separate as stannics hydrate.
This is treated with acid, and metallic
tin is finally obtained from the result
ing solution by electrolysis.
All from a Farthing.
A Dublin workman has produced n
novelty in the shape of a kettle, cup,
saucer and spoon made out of a far
thing. He hammered the bronze coin
till he had obtained a very thin sheet
of metal, from which he fashioned a
complete and workable kettle, with a
swing handle, removable lid, etc., to
gether with a cup, saucer and spoon.
He can boil water in the miniature
utensil and pour it through the spout.
The weight of the kettle, cup, saucer
and spoon is 40 grains. The weight
of a farthing is 49 grains.—Chicago
Post.
Where the Pftdfle Cable Lies.
The most hazardous section of the
Mnnila telegraph cable is that com
pleted between San Francisco and Hon
olulu, in which the sea bed is precip
itous, with valleys 31,600 feet deep.
The next two sections, extending to
Guapa, will cross plains of mud at a
depth of about 18,000 feet, while the
last section is over a series of moun
tains.—Scientific American.
nothing to Smjr,
“Oi say. Mulligan, phwat koind <vv
a foreigner is thot Allow peddlin'
rugs?”
“He’s a Turk, mo bye.”
“Well, I talked to him fer tin min*
utes awn niver a word hos he
sphoken.”
“Bedad, maybe he’s phwat they
call an ‘unspeakable Turk.’ ”—Chica
go Daily News.
PUNGENT PARAGRAPHS,
When a man gets loo lazy to give ad
vice there is no earthly hope for him.
—Chicago Daily News.
Motto of the Collector—Never put
ofE until to-morrow what can be
dunned to-day.—Harvard Lampoon.
"Yes, a man can be ungrammatical
and still be considered a Christian.”
"Guess you never lived in Boston.”—
Cleveland Plain Dealer.
“Yes,” answered the actor. “Starr,
the tragedian, is mad, hopelessly mad.”
“Overstudy,” asked the Crittick. “No,
it was his understudy that made him
mad. He made a bigger hit in the
part than Starr.”—Philadelphia Press.
Playwright — “My new play was
brought out last night. At the close
of the first act there wrere. loud and
persistent calls for the author.” Sim
pleton—“You don’t say. To think they
Could be so vindictive as that.”—Bos
ton Transcript.
“I’m mad about you!” she cried, pas
sionately; “I love you! Fly with me!
I love you to distraction!” “I fear,”
she replied, with becoming coolness,
“that your avowals—that is to say,
your vowels are a little mixed. What
you mean, I fancy,’ is destruction.”—
Town Topics.
Barbershop Proprietor—“What was
that you put on your customer’s face
after you were through shaving him?
Wasn’t it hair-restorer?” “New Bar
ber—“Sure!” “Well, you must be
crazy.” “I guess not. If it is what
we crack it up to be, he’ll be back
to-morrow for another shave!”—Cin
cinnati Commercial-Tribune.
“I want half a pound of water crack
ers,” said Mrs. Neweome. “All-fired
sorry, ma’am,” replied the country
storekeeper, “but I ain’t got but two
dozen of ’em in the place.” “Well, I’ll
take them.” “Jest wait ten, 20 min
utes. Hi Peters an’ Josh Slocum has
been using ’em fur checkers an’ they’re
playin’ the decidin’ game now.”—Phil
adelphia Press.
The Bicycle's Low Estate.
Five years ago the League of Amer
ican Wheelmen had a membership of
103,000—a regular army. * In those
days the “silent steeds" were as
thick as mosquitoes are in the Fen
way on a slimmer night. A year ago
the L. A. W. had dwindled to 10,500.
People said that the dwindling was
over; that the cranks had fallen by
the wayside; that those who were
left represented the real enthusiasts.
To-day, we tee, the L. A. W. has
5,380 members. In 1898 there were
50 cycling papers in the land. Now
there is only one such paper. Lo! tha
poor biker will so on be a lonesome
figure. The day of the striped shirt
century meet is over and gone.—Bos
ton Journal. ^
Doubtful About the Future.
The boy was all right, notwithstand
ing his girly curls and a fond moth
er who was deathly afraid he was
going to become coarse and vulgar
and in other respects masculine.
One day a gentleman calling at the
house engaged him in conversation.
“Well, my boy," he said, after some
time, “what are you going to be
when you grow up?”
The boy studied the question a mo.
ment.
“Really," ho replied, at last, “1
don t know. I suppose I ought to be
a man, but from the way mamma ia
Handling me I’m almost afraid I’m
going to be a lady."—Stray Stories.
The First “Majesty.”
The first ruler honored with the
title of “his majesty" was Louis XL
of France. Before that timn sover
eigns were usually styled his or hex
“highness.”—Chicago Chronicle.
- * ■ *%, m
The U4r PuehHlag Face Utioi
Did not Wait It (•rllu
Owm Complexloll/ * 1 „
The “demonstrator" at the cosmetic
and beauty goods counter iip a,certain
department store sighed wearily "as
she rested her elbow on the. show case
during a lull in the shopjrifcg. %he
gathered up the left side o%* ner face
in the hand that supported her head
and smiled indifferently at th4 ‘girl in
charge of the ribbon counter. The
young lady’s face was an exemPfRca
tion of “before and after fairing,” and
the reporter’s attention was attracted.
One side of her face was wan lodking,
while the other cheek glotved Hfith a
beautiful complexion and indications
of perfect health.
The reporter was mystified, amf to
satisfy his curiosity approached the
demonstrator’s counter to obtain a
closer view of the seeming phenome
non. relates the Washington Star. . •
“Looks a bit faded by the side of the
other one, don’t it?” said the obket'fant
demonstrator, as ahe patted firdt one
cheek and then the other. “I know you
don’t want to buy anything, so I sup
pose you are curious to know what
ails my face. One side of my counte
nance is as it grew on me; the other
side is my attempt to improve upon na
ture. I am here to show some of the
women of this town how to regain
their fading beauty. This is all ‘beauty
stuff’ around here,” she continued, in
dicating the array on the counter with
a gesture.
li you were 4 woman and your
complexion had gone to seed, and the
lines had begun to creep cautiously
over various parts of your face, you
would trot down to this little counter
and get a set of this stuff—four or five
boxes in all—and with a little eareful
practice you could make up so that
your own husband wouldn’t know you.
I give the womk painting lessons and
illustrate the action of the cosmetics
on myself.” ’
At this point in the conversation a
middle-aged woman who had been cast
ing sidelong glances toward the cos
metic department for several minutes.
approached the counter half timidly and
gingerly fingered the different boxes,
with an expression on her face that
was intended to betoken-interested cu
riosity. The reporter stepped aside a
few paces.
“Want to look at some 6f the goods?**
asked the demonstrator.
“What in the world is this stuff, Any
way?” queried the wpman.
The demonstator glanced at the re
porter with just the faintest indication
of a wink, and replied: “These are
remedies for the skin, the very safest
kind, prepared especially by reputable
physicians for preserving the cuticle.
You know,there are so many thing*
nowadays that tend to destroy the skin,
and even when it is in perfect condition
there is danger of skin affection from
one cause or another. Of course, too,
it is an aid in preserving the complex
ion, because of its action. Let me show
you. See, I rub thjp stuff off with a
damp sponge, and no’w both sides of my
face have the same wan look, which is
perfectly natural for me,- for I never
did have a good complexion. I apply
this remedy and rub it gently, and then
o k.. a __Li__
use
cial
—-- uwuvuiug A k U|/
with some of this preservative—see. I
have a fine complexion that looks like
it might have grown on me. It is a
perfectly safe remedy, there being no
bad effects, and anyone can use if.”
“Well, well; you don’t say! Corn*
plexion powder! I don’t see how any
one could use it. But, then, I suppose
there are lots of women who do. I
wouldn’t think of such a thing. But ib
does loot” naturaTT’do'n’t tff ' SSKl, as
you say, it might be -valuable as a rem
edy for the skin; but to think of using
it to restore the completion;Twblfidn’t
think of it. And yet, do you Jwow, I
have a very dear frien^ who do
such things. This seems to be es
ly good, too, and I believe I wilkget a set
of the stuff for my friend: she is always
trying something new, afedfWk'tooks
more natural than l an|r?C$h]gw%een.
How much did you say it was ?”
The customer paid the priced and as
the demonstrator Wah* tying t#f> the
package the woman said: “PJfMg put
in that list of printed instructions, so
that my friend will know fcoMr to use
it ” ,
* »• , r i't, ;U M
As the customer turned,tb leave the
demonstrator hailed out," ■ qtdfetly:
“Don’t forget to rufcthe fac«eie«t4with
a damp sponge, and don’t fry J^mut it
on with a dry cloth, and De careful to
use the remedies in ihe prbffb* Wfier,”
and several other important ^ir«#iona,
to all of which the cuttouMr listened
with the closest attenfron. u
'When she had gone the demMU&ator
turned
mark:
you ever see the like? She iswtagmple
of all the rest who b¥J the stuffvJThey
all pretend to be ignorant bf"wnat it
is, and always end by buying sonftfbf it
for’a friend.’ Just as if wq gisj^fion’t
know that they can hardly wait to get
home before trying the powider on.
There are
with that 1
forget it.
to the reporter, with the re
“Just lobk at the inUbdent; did
,v 11 J “6 aaac v^ici (ill»
t all kinds of deceits nrtjgd up
beauty powder, an<J dgn|t you
The Frosted Hsn
“Yes, and after she refhs^f iSfc aha
waved her hand in farewell.!*«4t
“Sort of cold wave waan’^ v
Cleveland, Plain Dealer. " *

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