Voke Easeley and His New Art
know a thing about music. He tried for years to learn and couldn't. The only way he knows when you strike a chord on the piano is because he doesn't like chords near as well as he does discords. He has gone right back to the dog, the wolf, the cave man, the tiger, the bear, the wind, the rock slide, the thunder and the earthquake for his language. He interprets life in the terms of natural sounds, which are discords nearly always; but he has added brains to them and made them tell all the moods of the human soul!"
"And the lady in green?"
"That is his wife—he can do nothing without her. There is the most complete psychic accord between them. It is beautiful! Beautiful!"
When we returned the lady in green was announcing:
"The next selection is a Yoke Easeley impression of the Soul of Wagner gazing at the sunrise from the peak of the Jungfrau."
The wand waved; the Adam's Apple leapt, and they were off. What followed cannot be indicated typographically. But if a cat were a sawmill, and a dog were a gigantic cart full of tin cans bouncing through a stone-paved street, and that dog and that cat hated each other and were telling each other so, it would sound much like it.
It was well received. Except by Ravenswood
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