Harp's Manor

INSTALLMENT XXXI

October 6, 1928

Harrison has given me the wonderful idea of allowing my work partner to write a short excerpt for Harp's Manor every other week. Unfortunately, such an attempt will be wholly impossible this week, as I refuse to allow Hansen even one word in my article, not that I believe she'd want one.

The suggestion was nearly unconscious, too. I was speaking with him about how his work with Stephenson was going on Monday. Harrison was busy all last week, and I'd barely had time to sit down and talk with him. I therefore jumped on this opportunity to spend the morning with him. Apparently his master plan is to conduct interviews with everyone for his radio show. My immediate thought was that this would most certainly prevent him from winning millions of dollars, as some snippet from the radio likely wouldn't present itself as art in the eyes of Mr. Harp, but Harrison further explained it was simply a goal of his on the side. "My job is in the radio industry," he pointed out. "I'll help Stephenson paint or whatever he wants me to do, but I also can't miss this chance to have some of the most interesting interviews hosted on my show."

This remark got me thinking, and I wondered aloud to him what would happen if I did something similar for Harp's Manor. He was very supportive of the idea, and encouraged me to pursue it. I will, as soon as my time chained to Hansen is up. How exciting the thought is! You have been exposed to Connolly already; now I aim to include the entire cast of this place. Their thoughts needn't be more than a few paragraphs long; I just wish to have their own words in the pages of this periodical.

Speaking of Hansen, the woman has put her petty vengeance over greed and very nearly sabotaged her own project. She was not done writing the melody of her song until yesterday, and presented it to me with a sickly sweet smile. The thing is absolute rubbish. I couldn't even figure out how to play it and instead requested Mr. Abbott to do so for me. He kindly assented. After looking over it for a few minutes, he observed, "This is your first time writing music, I presume?"

"Miss Hansen wrote it," I sighed. "She expects me to write lyrics to it before the end of this week."

He frowned, concentrated his eyes, and began playing. At first I thought he was simply making mistakes during the first sight reading, until I realized he was playing right off the page. On one hand, it was an impressive display of Mr. Abbott's talent. On the other, it was confirmation in my eyes that Hansen had purposely written an awful piece and expected me to make something out of it. The thing switches key far too often, goes too fast, and, most importantly, has no discernible rhythm. I'd be gracious to even call it music.

Following Mr. Abbott's advice, I immediately sought help from Audrey. Her piece with Miss Jacobs, which she has requested I keep secret, has come along nicely, and I really believe it will be a hit with the public. We spent all evening tossing around ideas and attempting to figure out what the meaning of the 'song' was. In the end, we decided on frustration. I worked on lyrics all day yesterday, and although I am pretty far along, it is nowhere near worthy of a million dollars, much less human ears.

"Don't worry, hon," Audrey said, patting my shoulder. "I'll work with you next week, how about. Miss Hansen is sure to drive anyone up the wall. You need a break."

I agreed without even thinking of Harrison. He assured me it was fine when I brought this up to him later, as I had planned on working with him instead, and insisted that it would be better for me to work with Audrey after my struggle with Hansen. He even suggested he would deal with her next time, which I quickly argued wasn't necessary. Harrison is too kind, however, and decided that it would be better for everyone if he attempted to wrangle the woman himself. "She is my cousin, after all," he reasoned.