Books › Blue Book v018 n04 [1914-02], 1914 › scan 195
Scan 195
Blue Book v018 n04 [1914-02], 1914
23 lines. Read by computer on 17 September 2026. No printed page number was found. See the scan on archive.org.
1Flute and Violin—Con Amore
2A little matter of music and love—with a bit of a conspiracy thrown in. You'll find it a most engaging tale.
4By BARRY PRESTON
6Cornelius Carney came fully awake in the midst of Schubert's "Serenade." Schubert's "Serenade" is all right at certain times, but one of the times when it is not all right is at nine o'clock in the morning when you have just fallen asleep after eight hours on the night shift in a foundry.
8Carney sat up in bed and muttered sleepy invective at the droning notes of the violin, stealing in through the open window. It was plain the usual morning repertory was in full swing. He knew that Schubert's "Serenade" had been preceded by "Annie Laurie" and "The Last Rose of Summer," and that immediately following it, his unwilling ears would be regaled with the intermezzo from "Cavaleria" and certain other classy stuff the identity of which was beyond his ken.
10He pounced, still muttering, out of bed and slammed shut both the windows in the room. But, when he got back into bed again, for all the closed windows, it seemed to him that the intermezzo, just beginning its first wails, was even louder than usual.
12"Aw, heavens!" said Mr. Carney—or perhaps it was a shorter word he used—and left his couch once more, viciously yanking one of the blankets off the bed and draping it in unlovely fashion about his rather too ample form.
14Carney went to the front window and scowled out at the little house across the street—the house those people named McNamara had rented and moved into the week previous. Out of the open front windows of the second story came the intermezzo, full blast now, with all the quavers and wails and sighs that could be put into it. Carney's face grew black. For a moment he thought of opening his own windows and shouting his full and unexpurgated wrath across the narrow street. Then he thought better of this move and instead he thumped lustily on the bedroom floor with one bare heel. This brought no answering bustle on the part of Mrs. Carney below stairs, so Carney moved into the hall.
16"Aggie!" he bellowed in soulful distress. "Say, Aggie!"
18This also bringing no answer, he wrapped the blanket more closely about him and went padding down the front stairs, talking to himself in unseemly fashion as he went.
20Carney poked through the front hall to the little kitchen, and just as he gained it, the back door flew open and flew shut and Mrs. Carney, a shawl over her head and fire in her eyes, came in. Mrs. Carney was angry. One glance at her fat and usually placid face showed that plainly.
22"I knew ye couldn't be sleepin' wit'
The computer misreads some letters and numbers. Where a name matters to you, read the scan.