Daily Wabash Express, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 8 May 1887 — Page 3
SAN BENITO
|u Vranciscc Overland Monthly. It yon go to Ban Benito, on the gray eea leg down, ,. Fronted by the restless ocean, bucked uy fed kills and brown,
You shall see a quaint old
look-
rag-
Tillage—remnant
ef
the wealth and prime, With the halcyon grace around it of the dreamy Spanish time,
When the shouts of Ray vaqueros floated on
the balmy air,
And the herds of
long-horned
cattle thronged
the Talleys everywhere
Bnt another race has conquered End possessed this calm retreat. So where lowed tho Bonniah cmtle rastlee now the yellow wheal
While the o'd adube mission fast is falling lo clcony And the sounds of mirth and music cheer n» more the lonely dar,
In a dream lies Ban Benito, to the olden time chained fast, Caring nothing for the prefect, for its heart is in the past.
And it seems to look far westward o'er »lie rast and glimmering sea, Half-axpecUDt of the coming ne'er eaa be,—
if a lime that
Thinking, dreaming of a inptore that its heart can never know, When again into its bosom should he clasped the long ago.
Oh, our lives are 8an Benitos by time's everreatless sea, And dream and dream forever of a day tha. can not. be—
Wheu the joye that long have felt ns shall come back on happy wing, While the hope's fair mission towers as of old the belle shall ring.
Deeper raptures thrilled our childhood, fonder hopes our youth's brief spring, Than this stern exacting manhood to our hearts can ever bring.
But they oome bat once—once only and all vainly do we sigh For the blissful aecond coming of the days that have Rone by.
Yet, with patient eyes and faithful, looking out across the main, Still 1 wait and watch and listen for tho past to oome again.
Life is evermore beside mo, sparkling, dancing
A
And my heart a San Benito in a dream bttside the sea.
Mailow of a Sin.
By CHARLOTTE M. BRABMB,
Author of "Uora Tlionie."
CHAPTER IX.
"Whal has come over the child?" thought Lady Vaugh«n to hersilf. "She is so submissive, BC,quiet, so obedient, I hardly know her.'
For, though Lady Vaughan exercised Hyacinth's patience very severely ihs whole of that day. in the packing up, no murmur escaped her lips sho was very quiet and subdued, and mxde no complaint eve'i when she heard that they were to travel in a clo^e cir:i3ge no impetuous bursts of song cuni1..' from her lips—no half-murmured repiy to Lady Vaughan'B homilies. Tiio lp.dy thought with greatcompkcency, how very tflieacious her few words must have been. "It is the prospect of bsiug married, 1 suppose, tha:. lias mnrle her so good," she said to herself-
She little knew that the girl's heart was weighed down with gratitude to Heaven for nn escape that she deemed almoBt miraculous. She lillL* thought how suddenly the quiet old home had Income a sure refuse i'-r.d harbor to her —and how tor the firs-t lime in her life, Hyacinth clung to it with love and fondness.
She wr.8 luit-y at wot I: d-iy, for they were lo start earl ,- on the text morning. She executed nil Lady Vuughan's commissions—she did all Iter errands—she helped in every possible way, ihtnkiug all the time how fortunate she was—that the past two months were like a horrid drearu from which r.he h.ul only just awoke. Mow could plie linve been so blinded, so foolish, so mad?- All, thank Heaven, she had awoke in tiuie!
Sbe was not afraid of discovery, though she fcticw perfectly well that, if ever Lady Vaughan should kiiow what bhe had "done, she w-uld never upeak to her again—-sbe would no! allow he io remain at Q/uen's Chase. But there was no fear of her ever Ieirning what she had done thanks to Claude's c.ire, no one had recognized inr—her secret, was quite H'.fe. But the consciousness that she had such a secret humiliated her as nothing els* could have done. Her grandmother might, well wonder what brought tliat expression of grateful contentment to her beautiful f.(:?.
Tlicn Lady Vaughan hade her go to rest early, for she must be up by^ sunrise. Siie went, tears of gratitude filling her ej ps. She was at home, and so safe
Sht:,ought very kindly of Claude. Sbe was sorry for Lis di-comfi'tire, and for the pain be Fullered but a sudden sense if womanly dignity had ccme ever her. "He shruld not r.uve persuaded me, she said to lieiself over ruid over again "He knows the world better than I do he isoldir than I am. He should have been the one to teach me, and not to lead ine astray."
Still she feli: kicdly toward him, snd she knew that as tiuie went on, and the glcom cf her home inclosed her agaiu, she should miss him. She was too grateful for her escape, however, too remorseful for what she had done, to feci any great grief at losing aim now.
On the Thursday morning, when great events of which she knew nothing were
passing
around her, Hyacinth IOSO early,
and the bustle of preparation began They did not go to Oakt.m station. Sir Arthur had his oWii particular way of doing every thing. and I chose to post to I. mticu. He did ot quite approve of railway traveling—if. was leveling— were mi* up too much for his 'theydiove in the grand oid t.-ige to I ,omv !,» n.
all .:! taste. family i-i' trav !s Beryl il:'.
A-
elirg i.u dull, ^ir aeeiv was I blii.d*- -1 drswti scfT-y.i!' ship OU' Wi.e» tbfy h--l Tbe'.i wi:*.
\7h"oc« tli'}' li'ice I'
ib'v io k• trav
i!.is \v re-i lcrol A.Uii.r -lOV V-t'i 1 .* ri-MvJ, ii ii
A.vti "i"! 1} J, n-v
h»- 1 ^L'
4
\Y sU
T!r li.ni i'.rr a i-i it for iv lu!v .'wj vor!-1 iiii*- rs-.-•p tv, 1" v'
r»r
oi
»J ci'i' \\:*s ATI. -:i
IT
exclusive. A„ jli.y ew ne.r F1 tifnl eve: this and We-i:M roiic tin Ic-'' pro! d' Sbe l,«dv wi ehe US tl ie.'
L^'C trail
^d
"Shall we see him to-night 7" asked Sir Arthur. "No, I should imagine not. Adrian is always considerate. He will know we are tried, and consequently not in the best of moods for visitor?," site replied. "He will be with us to-morrow morning."
And, strange to say, Hyacinth Vaughan, who had once put from her even the thought of Adrian Darcy, felt some slight disappointment that she was not to see him until the morrow.
CHAPTER X.
When all life aeemed love aad music, and the Vaughan, as the summer sun sound of dance and song, 3 With the chime of bells at veeptra soonded through the summer long.
This is something like life," thought
came streaming into her room 1c waa yet early in the morning, but there was a sound of music from tho gardens. She drew aside the blinds, and saw a lake in ail its beauty, the most cheerful, the brighteatlscene upon which she had ever gazed.
The Hotel du Roi is by far the most aristocratic resort- in Bergheim. "Kingfi queens and emperors" have lodged there some of the leading men and the fairest women in Europe have at times made their home there. The hotel has a certain aristocratic character of its own-Second-rate people never go there its magnificence is of too quiet and dignified a kind. The gorgeous suites of rooms ore aiways inhabited by some of the leading Continental families. Bergbeim itself is a sleepy.little town. The lake is ^pry beautiful 11 mountains slope down lo the edge the water is deep, clesr and calm green treis fringe the banks water lilies sleep on its tranquil breast. The Lake of JBsrgheim has figured in poetry, in song and in pictures.
Hyacinth gazed at it with keen delight Suddenly it struck lier that the house was not Lady Vaoghan's, consequently not under her ladyship's control, and that sbe could go out into those fairy-like looking grounds if she wished.
She took her hat and a black lace shawl and went down-stairs. She was soon reassured- She was doing nothing unusual. O.ie or two ladies were already in the gardens, aud iu one of the broad open paths she saw au English nursemaid with some little children around her. Hyacinth walked on with a light, joyous heart. She never remembered to have seen the world so fair she had never seen sunshine so bright, or flowers so fair nor had sbe ever heard such musical songs from the birds
Over the girl's whole SOUI.SB she stood there came a rapturous sense of security and gratitude. She was safe the folly, amounting almost to sin, of her girlhood, was already fading into the ob-curity of a dark, a miserable dream. She was safe under Heaven's blessed sunlight, Ufa growing fairer and more beautiful every hcur. She was grateful for her e=c^pe.
Then it struck her that she heard the gnu ad of faltog watfr, and she went down a long, vine -covered path—surely the loveliest picture in the world. The vin8s had been trained so as to form a perfect arch Itie grape3 hung in rich, ripe bunches flowers grew undsrfoot and at the ead of the grove was a high white rock from which water fall with P. rippling, rushing, musical soun'f, into a small cfear pool. Hyacinth looked at the scene in wonder. She had never seen anything so pretty in her life. Sbe went up to the water it was cool, so clear, so fresh and sparkling. She threw _ofl her hat and plunged her hands into it- She laughed aloud as the water ran foaming over them. She little dreamed what a lovely picture she herself made standing under the shade of the vines, her fair, brilliant face almost dazzling iu the dica light, her fair hair shining like gold Tho morning breeze had brought the most dainty and exquisite bloom to her face, her eyes were a* brisht as stars, her lips like newly-blown roses, as she stood with the foam rushing over her little white hunds, the world might have snarched in vain for on? more lovely.
Tfapn she thought how refreshing a draught of that sparkling water would be. She gathered a large vine-leaf and filled it. She had just raistd it to her lips wheu a rich, deep, musical voice saiel—
Do not si ink that water it is not considered good." The vine-leaf fell from her hands, her face flushed crimsoii. She had thought that she was quite alone. She looked around, but could see no one. "I beg pardon if I have alarmed you"' said the ssme voice, ''but the water of the fall is not considered Eood it is supposed to come roui the lake."
Then she looked in the direction whence the voice proceeded—a gentleman was reclining ou a rock oy the waterfall. He had been reacting, for an open book lay by his side but Hyacinth strougiy suspected, from the quiet smile on his lips and in his luminous eyes, that he had been wa'.cheng her. "I am afraid I atarllod you," he continued "but the water not so clear as it looks." "Thank you," she returned, gently.
He took up his book egsiin, and she turned to leave the grove. But in those few moments the world had all changed to her. She walked out of the vine grove, and sat down by the edge of the lake, trying to live every second of those few minutes over again.
Whal was that face like? Dark, beautiful, noble—the faca of a king, witli royal brows, aDU firm, grave, yet sweet lips—a face that in her girlish dreams sbe would have give to the heroes sbe loved—to King Arthur—to the Chevalier Biyard—to Richard the Li' Heart—the face of a turn born to com mand, born to mle.
Shi"
be lib-. Fcfiii'ai" el Sc or ndfall
t!. .* r. ju
Wli
4-1(1 !.
in id he retii ^n Utt charms? iitr reverie by
isi'.tifl
f10111
lit It W
dri~e
straight the hotei,' I' ucv h.ii tukcii rooms for
She hud looked at it for perhaps only two minutes, but she could have sketched it accurately from memory. The dirk hair was thrown back in masses—not in effeminsUocur!?, but in the same waving lines that may be see.i on the htads of famous reels statues the forehead was white, broad, well developed, rounded at the tcaip!es, full of ideality, cf genius, of poetry, of thought the brows were dark and straight as tho?e of a Greek god the eyes luininor.n and brsgtt—she could not tell what they were like—they had dazzled her. The dark mustache did not hide a basutilul mouth th*t h«.d nothing effeminate in it.
It was a face that tilled her mind with thoughts of beauty. She mused over it. Tr.erc was nobility, power, genius, loyal :y, truth, in every feature. The voice bad tiiltd her ears with music. "I wish," she thought, "he had given me some ether command should like to obey him 1 would do anything be told nn he has theiace and tho voice of a king. I have read of god-like uuen ow I have seen one. Shall 1 ever see him again? I can imagine that fice limbing with indignation, eloquent with pleading, royal in command, eoftened in tenderness, eloquent in speech."
Her reverie was interrupted by the sound of a bell- 'That must be for breakfast." she thought, and sbe hurried back to the house. She did not see the stranger fediow her, with a smile still on his face.
Lidy Vaughan was uau&uallv gra-ci-jus. I "You have be^n out in the gardens, m? dear," she said to the youog girl, who evidently expected a reproof. '"That is right. You are looking very well this morning."
She spoke coldly but in her heart she marveled at the girl's wonderful beauty. Saa had seen nothing BO fair, so dainty, EJ brilliant as the bloom that overaprer.d her lovely face. "I have bad a note from Mr. Darcy," continued her lady
ship, "and he will be with us befuie noon." Daring breakfast Lidy Vaughan was more gracious than ever Hyacinth remembeied to have seen h«r. When it was over, she said to the girt—
I should like you to look your best, Cynthy, when Mr. Darcy conus. Make a fresh toilet, and then amuse yaureeif as you like until I send for yon."
Over the glowiDg dreara of the morning the name of Adrian Darcy seemed to fall like the breath of a cold east wind over flowei8. She had for the time almoet forgotten him: and st the sound of hia name a whole host of disagreeable memories arose. "Never mind," she said to herself "thfy can not force mo to mairy him against my will. I can tell him I do not like him." She went away, with smiles on her lips and music in her heart, to change her dress, as Lady Vaughan had desired. A surprise awaited her in her room Pincoit, Lady VaughaD'8 maid, was standing before a large trunk. ''These are dresses, Miss Vaughan,' she said, "that my lady has ordered from Paris for you. She did not teli you, because felie wished to kec-p it ss a surprise for you."
The girl's face flushed crimson. "For me 1" she cried. "How kind of ner! Ob, Pincoit, bow beautiful they
unfolded the glistening silk, lace ahd velvet, disto Hyacinth's enraptured
The maid treasures ol playing tlieia eyes.
My lsdy ordered me to attend to toiUt, this morning, Mies Vaughan," continued Pincott, who knew perfectly well why her mislress desired the young girl to look her best. "I have brought these blush roses no ornaments look to well as natural flaw era."
your
From the collection of dresses one of embroidered Indian muelin was selected. It was daintily trimmed with pale pink ribbon and white lace, and was c-xquis itely made. The girlish graceful figure, with its beautiful curves and ^symmetrical lines, was shown to perfection the sleeves fell back, showing a fair, rounded arm. Pincotl had great natural tssle he dressed the fair hr.ir after some am pie girlish fashion, and fastened a blush rose in it Bhe fastened aaothar in the in the high bodice of the white dress. "You look lovely, Miss Vaugb&n she said and Hyacinth, looking at her fair flower like face, blushed for her own great beauty.
Then Pincott left iter, and the way in which she amused herself was by sitting at the opan winds, dreaming of 'he face she had seen at the waterfali. She was roused by the maid'B return. Lady Vaughan will be glad to see you her room, Miss Vaughsn. Mr. D.ircy there."
Again tho nsme feil like cold yater over"her, chilling her bright, dreams, her growing content ani happiness and again sbe consoled hereeif by remembering that no one could force her to marry Mr. Darcy against her will. Sbe heard the sound of voic83 as she drew near the
room
she opened the door and entered, her beautiful face calm and serene, looking as fair a picture of youih and loveliness as ever ureeted human eyes. "Hyacinth," said Lady Vaughan, "come here, my dear. I want to introduce yuu to Mr. Darcy."
She went up to her. A tall figure utood near Lsdy Vaughan'B chair. Lady Vaughan took her hand. "Thisis my granddaughter. Hyaeiuth —Mr. Darcy."
Hyacinih* raised her eyes. Wts she blinded by si great golden sunbeam? Was she dreaming? Was she haunted or bewitched? Adrian Darcy, whom she dreaded to sec, whose name eves: she had deicsted, was the same gentleman that she l.ad seen by the wateiiall-
When she remembered all she had been thinking and dreaming, it was no wonder that the beautiful face grew crimson as a damask rire, am', that the bright, eyes fell until lie ccukl see nothing of them. She wis spell bound—this un known hero of whom she had dreamed
the
whole summer morning was Adrian D-ircy He beid out his baud to her. "We are old friends," he said fiankly.
I saw this young lady about to driuk some clear, cold, sparkling poison this morning, and 1 iitterferreu to prevent, her doiog so."
Then he was obliged to explain to Lady Vaughan who smiled most graciously but Hjacinth said never a word. She could not rea'.izs the truth, vet ube sat like one blinded by a great flood of sunlight. If she bad known how this sweet shy confusion became her—how beautiful it was—how Adrian Diroy ad mired il! Nothing could have charmed him half so much. •'How beautiful she it!" he thought.
She is like a rosebud vhrouded in green leaves" Hyacinth was almost in despair. "How stupid he will think me!" she reflected. "But I not h?!p it—I cannot speak."
When she had collected her senses 6uffie.iar.tly to listen,Adrian was saying— "Yes we have very good music here, indeed. I think the hotel gsrde-.H on p. bright summer day the most charming place I know. The fountains are very beautiful and the baud is one of the best I have heard. Lady Vauithan. I hear the music beginning now will you allow me to escott you There are very comfortable seats in tiie garde
He saw the sudden, startled flush of joy in the young face. Hyacinth raised her bead and looked easterly at her grandmamma but Lady Vaughan excused herself.
The journey has been delightful," she said, "but fatiguing. Tomorrow I will go out, but act to-day. Hyacinth will go, Adrian, if vou will be so kiod as to aive the child the pleasure."
The "child" rose, her cheeks silinif, her heart ba it:ng as it had never beat before. To go out in'o those snclit gardens and to listen to music with him— well, she had no1, even guessed before what a beautiful, happy world it WHE. She put ou the prettiest of her hr.ts— oue with white plume—and a '.ace mantilla, snd then stood, half emilin?, but wholly happy, .vailing for him. Ft" came up to her, stniiioq "Hyacinth," he said, "we nre—to vse an old-t8shioneJ tern —Dt the same kin so I am not going to call yen Miss Vaughan. And I want you not to look so shy, but to feel quite at home with me."
At home wilh hita, this hero, this king amongst men, whose presence filled her whole sou! with light! It couid never be'1 had no ides," he continued, "that I had s'lch fair young kinswoman, Lady Vaughan had alwavs written ss though you were a child.''
Her heart 6unk. Was this bow he thought of her—was this what mads him so kind and gracious to her? "I am not a child," she said, w'th some little attempt 8t dignity,'! nm more1! than eighteen."
Quite a philosophic age," was the smiling reply. '"Now, Hyacinth, tell me, what do you like to look at best flowers, ireo?, or ws'.er?" "I like, all three," she said, iruthfully. '"Do yon7 Then I will find you a seat where jcu can see all. Here is one, not tort cear the mu ic."
He had found a quaint, pr?tty garden seat, under tb* ehide cf a tell, spreading tree. In front of them were betifs of lilies and roses, and U:? bine waters'of the lake. Tlie band began to play the sad, passionate musx oi Verdi's "Miserere and to Hyacinth Vaughan it seemed as though the earth had changed into heaven. "Do you like music?' he said, watch• iug the changes on the beautiful young face.
"Y»'S," sue replied, "bat I have heaid so little." "You have had a very quiet life at Qai-.-n's Chsse, I should imagine," he id. "Yes, as quiet as life could well be." "Yon should not regret it. I am quite of the old regime. I think young girls should be so reared." '"For what reaaon she asked. "For a hundred reasons. If there is one character I detest above another, it is that of a worldly woman. Delicacy, purity, refinement, are all so essential— and no girl can possess them brought up tinder the glare aad glitter of the world, ij Yon have bean singularly fortunate in living at Queen's Chase." "Thank Heaven," she thought to herself, "that he does not know the shameful escape I tried to make—that he does not know how I loathed and hated the place." "But," she said aloud, "it is not pleasant to be always dull." "Dull! No. Youth is the very time for enjoyment every thing rejoices in youth. You, for instance, have been happy with your books and flowers at
Queen's Chase the world now is all ROW to ycu. You fire not what fashionable jureon calls 'used up.' You have net been playing at being a woman while you were yet a child your heart has not I teen hardened by flirtations your BOUI has not been soiled by contact with worldings you are fresh, nnd purs, and beautiful as the flowers. If yon had been living all these years in the hot bed of society, this would not have been the case. There is nothing eo detestable, so unnatural, as a worldly young girl."
He liked her a« she wat! For the first iuie in her life Hyacinth blessed Lady Vauglian and Queen's Chase. "I do not want to tire you with argument," be contiaued, "but tell me, Hyacinth, what becomes of a flower, the growth of which has been forced?" "I soon dies," she replied. "Yes and girls brought up in the artificial atmosphere of modern society, and its wcrship of Mammon, its false estimates, its love of sensation and excitement, soon die to all that is fairest and best in life. You," he continued, enjoy—see your face telis tales, Hyacinth ycu enjoy the sunshine, the flowers, tiie music, the like." "Yes, indeed I do," she confessed. "If ycu had danced and flirted through one or two London seasons, you would not enjoy nature as you do it would pall upon ycu-^you would be apt to look at it through an eye glass, and criticise the color of the water and the tints of the flowers—you would detect motes in th^ suubeam and false notes in music."
She laughed. "I should not be so keen a critic, Mr. Darcy." "One who can criticize is not always one who enjoys most," he said. "I like to eee people honestly enjoying themselves, and leaving criticisms alone."
The gardens were not crowded: there were seldom visitors enough at the hotel to form a crowd but Hyacinth was struck by the pleasant high-bred faces aed elegant dresses.
"J
you see that lady there in the gray dress," said Mr. Dircey—" the one with two children by her side?" Hyacinth looked in the direction indicated. "That is the Princess Von Arteu, the daughter of a que^n How simple and unassuming she ia! She is staying here with her children. The gentleman now s-duting her is the eminent Weilmalh."
H:.T
face lighted up.
"I am gla'.! to have seen him," she said have lead of him so often. Do you admire him?" "I admire bravery," he replied, "but not unscrupulous daring. Do you S6e that lady sitting under the ilex tree?" "The one with the sad, thoughtful face?" asked Hyacinth, "Yes. Twelve months ago she was the leading star of !he most brilliant court in Europe now she has no home that she can call her own."
Hyacinth turned her face to his'. "Mr. Darcy," she said, "is the world Uien so full of reverses? I thought that, when one was happy and prosperous, sorrow and trouble did not approach. What is stable if money, and friendship, and happiness fail?" "Just one thing," he replied, with the bsautiful luminous smile she had never seen on any other face—"Heaven!''
To be Continued in the Sunday Express.']
LINCOLN AND STANTON.
Nit Pliice for the I'reMitc&t'a Signature. Tho Century. When Mr. Stanley, of North Carolina, was appointed military gqjflrnor of his state ilia secretary of wa1 caused to be filled out one of the blank forms used in notifying military nominees of their appointment to office by the president, and when be had signed it and caused the seal ol the war department to be attached to it he concluded that it would be well to hfve tbesign-raanual of the president affixed tothe instrument. Hesent it to the White. House, with the request that the president wonld sign and return it immediately. Mr. Lincoln took the document and read it over carefully, and then began turning and twisting it abouf, as though io search of something. A'lssthe handed it to the bearer and said, ironic?lly: "Did Mr. Stanton say where I was to put my signature?" "No, sir," replied the astonished clerk. 'Can you tell me," 3sked the presi dent, "whereabouts on this paper 1 am to put my signature?" The clerk looked at the commission and saw the ample ignaturc of Mr. Sianton immediately at the fcot of the jdy of the instrument, with the counter signature of tho adjutant general to the left. He saw also a neat, snug looking white sp3cs beneath the signature of the secretary cf war which Mr. Lincoln might have occupied to r.dvanii'ge had he seen fit, but the clerk wrs polite and replied: "I don't see anv place provided far your signa ture, Mr. President," and was proceeding to explain how the omission obvi-ou-ly came about, wheu the president interrupted him and said ia a digniGed "Take the paper back to the sec retary cf wu'. with my compliment?, and say that the president will sign any proper commission that may be sent to him for Governor Stanley or «nybody elst."
The Woman "Faith" Doctors. Standard. Now, what ars these women teaching this science for? Are they going about as did Christ, of old, healing the sick without pav? Not much. They aim to lead theii followers into a vague and mystic realm where the miod id ihe human becomes in sweet and perfect accord with the mind of the divine—but they cLarge a good round sum for the trip.
All One Way.
Boston Transcript. Sc far the only applications under the inter state commerce act have been applications for suspensions of the application of the statute.
They Were Loaded for Bear. Toronto News. A poiar bear walked ashore at Bird island, Newfoundland, ihe other day. It was promptly shot.
The Question.
Philadelphia Times. An industrial probiem Will the striking carpenters hit the nail on
§tt®fflisiltit§iiw§:l #lii^
THE EXPRESS, TEKBE HAUTE, SUNDAY, MAY 8, 1887.
WOXEH WHO PO?B PROMPTED THZIB VAHITY.
maDy_ia
BT
Reaotifol Form* Seen Only in StadluaFlain FMM and Pretty Figures.
Star reporter asked a well known artist: "Whydoes an artist have to have a model?" I asked. "With all the statues and pictures and sketches that already exist, why must he still go to^ the original flesh for his designs?" "This is a realistic age," was the reply. Artieis nsed to study the antique, the antique— forever. Now they want the real thing—the thing of life. The art schools used to demand that a figure be so many hetds high. Now they want them as they are, nil varying, as faces vary, as_ everything varies in actual life. In Paris there are artists who go about the streets^ in wagons with peep holes cut in the side* of the wagon tops, stopping wherever there is a qHeer posture or interesting group or prettv face or anything worth producing. Pictures now must be from the WU. If two artists study tojether, it is to be observed that oce gets all the subtleties of coloring, veining and skin texture, while the other misses most of them. It is the same with landscape painting. Landscapes used mainly to be invented. Now artists are not contented without getting even the peculiar l'ght of the country they are painting in, and all its effects on the ground and leaves of trees. An artist demands of bis model that she shall be plump, pretty and clean. Artists endeavor to get sittings from their models in the morning, when tbe model is just out of bed, so she shall be fresh, vigorous and spirited. They pay for private models about $1 or $1.50 an hour and usually entertain them at luncheon. There is no end of men models. Artists find that they can get almost any man to pose, draped or nude, for a third less than women demand. Every artist has the address of fifty men. If au artiet opens a studio in this city it won't be three days before the and many women will call and ask for work and beg for money. Women differ very much. Sarony, the photographer and artist, ssys of all the women he hss seen but two were perfect. The consequence is that this one is chosen to pose for her limbs, another for her torso, or trunk, and so on. Women who have thin and unprepossessing faces often possess the most beautiful forms. The face is no criterion in judging of a model. Artists all agree that the vanity which woman is charged with possessing is no slander upon tbe sex, for in private life it is found that many women, the proudest and most correct, can more or less easily be got to pose regularly, draped or decollette or in short skirts. Thus figures are not obtainable among models are often procured for nothing, and the women are proud of being selected for this purpose. This is especially eo with married women. Once they trust the honor of an artist they will eufl'er themselves to be put in any posture, no matter how ridiculous. Artists find that wheu they set up their easels in the country the men will laugh p,t them, but, the women will draw near to be sketched." My artist friend told me an interesting story of an exp rienee he had wilh a woman, now a celebrated^ mode!, when she first :sed in a studio. She dropped in upon him savirsr that B'.:« had been a counter girl in O'Neil's, a shopping store, at about $6. a week, and could not make both ends meet that a lady friend, who was a inoelel, had spoken of him as a gentleman, an that if he needed a eubject bhe would iike him to tell her what to do He told. He told her what she she wouid have to accus torn herself to if she followed that life, but. she said she knew all about it. He pointed to a screen and bade her go behind it find take off her things. Pres ently she reappeared, but in little more undress than if she were about to retire Informed that this was not what was wanted, she disappeared and next revealed herself iu complete undress, but with her back toward the artist. Here was an extraordinary beautiful form,and as he tuade a sketch of her figure he de bated with himself how he should deal with her. He resolved to be wholly husi nes3 like, and so, walking over to where she stood, he bade her turn around, and posed her _ao be wished her to stand. By the tims he reached his easel she was bent double and indulging in a tu of crying, blendi with almost hysterical laughter. He told her it was quito evident that she h-'.d better give up her ambition and return to her former life, and he supposed she would. But she did not. Sbe is cow one of tlie most noted aud przjd models in town. She remains a perfectly good girl, but is not averse to sitting entirely disrobed, and smoking a cigarette while curled up like a Turk on a lounge, waiting for her employer to begin work. The most popular model now, however, is a former model who baa been married and had several children and has at last been obliged to return to the old life in order to support her bus band. Models in good demand make $25 a week. A most curious fact that, my informant says, has been noticed among artiets is that the demi-monde cannot be got to pose as a model. It would be inferred from that that the most utter shamelessness is found in these who do that work, and yet very
fact all who have a modicum
of brains—are good women wbo lead orderlv lives and keep admirable homes
The Circus Caught Them. New i'ork World. Adam Forepough's greatest success was achieved many degrees south of this city in 1884. Tbe Cleveland-Blaine campaign iu Wilmington, N. C., wss red hot, but almost hopeless. The colored brothers were solid for Blaine aud the bloody shirt." No clew to a possible compiom:»= could be )itnd, until just two days before election, Forepaugbfloated io with his elephants and monkeys and dazzled the town with poster?. Both watermelons and politics were forgotten, and colored Wilmington was in an nproar. The Republican managers smiled, for tbev knew the circus would keep the voter? away from demoralizing influences. Democracy was in despair. Suddenly a happy thought struck the Cleveland committee and it rusbed down to For^paugh'e tent aud held a mucus. Nest day Aiming posters announced thai registration pa pers would be received in lieu of tickets at tbe show. The news took tbe town by storm. Tbe darkies fell over each other Retting to the circus, and Forepaugh jammed them in forty deep. By next eveoitg Cleveland lead a majority in Wilmington.
Sociable Maud S.
Turf, Field and Farm.—The Queen of the Turf is fond of caiessss. A visiting party stood in front of the box the other afternoon, and she walked straight to the open door and rested her nose on tbe shoulder of one of tbe young ladies. Arms were wound an und her neck, and a soft cheek laid egsinBt her head, and she wa6 as tender and considerate as a big and rough man-in tbe presence of the girl he loves. Maud S has had a great
deal of netting, bat petting terhas not
spoiled her. She is wonderfully gentle under the caressing hand of women. The Queen never looked better at this of the year. She stands squarely
ID her ftxt, RTTJD INO legs are hard, smooth sDd tron». The young lady who had put her arms around tbe neck cf the chestnut mare, asked Mr. Bonner for one of her shoes to hang up ia her bDadoir. She thought it would gtve her lack. The owner replied that he was not in the habit of giving the sir.ies of Maud 8 away it is the practice to keep them so that tbe points where the wear is greatest may be studied, and thus act as a guide to shoeing but he was disposed to break through custom for once. A shoe was not readv at the moment, but he promised to send the youcg lady one the very next time the farrier was called in. Rarus and Dexter are different from tbe Queen. Neither iB sociable when visitors are around.
A NEW YORK DETECTIVE.
One or the Old School—Captain Thomas Sampson. Missouri Repablioar:.
A man of about the medium heiaht, 62 or 63 years of age, wilh a flat nose, in a derby bat and very plainly dressed, is one of Vac figures daily seen entering the S'i!--Uraeu.y, the stately building with Doric pillars in Wall street cn the site of the old hall io which Washington, in b.-own small clothes, white stockings and silver buckled sheet, took tbe oath of office as the first president of the United States- The plain old man who attracts so little attention in the busy throng of Wall etreei, and who sits quiet as :t stone iu the tomb-like treasure-house, lias had ao eventful life. It is Captain Thomas Simpson, the sub treasury defective. His present positiw is almost a sinecure, although he looks caisfully after whatever duties devolve upon him. He made a name for himself as f.r beck as the days of Alderman Jicob 11 aye3, the iitst sherifl of New York, or high constable, as the office W then called. This was in the period extending from about 18-50 to 1835. Hayes was the first officer in New York to g. about detecting critpe systewaticallv, using his experience as a sherifl and his personal scquaintance with criminals. H-3 died about 18-50 and then Thomas Sampson became the famous detective of New York. In 1854 the celebrated imailist and ruffian, Bill Poole, was killed. Poole wae an American and the champion of the American roughs of th city, as John Morrisay was the leader of a similar gang of Irishmen. Both politicsl parties protected these ruffians, because of the services which they performed on election day. They were the "plug uglies" of old New York a disgrace to the city and the terror of revpectible citizens. When not gougiog out eyes, bitiug off noses sud ears or engaged in rough and tumble encounters and prize fights, they were carousing in the low saloons of the day. Bill Poole had fought prize fights, but had won no particular distinction in this direction. He was tall aud powerfully built, aud he was better adapted for rough :uid tumble encounters. He was bold and aggressive, and the feud between tbe Americans and tho Irish became so bitter that some of Morrisey's heeleis determined to murder him. Poole was generally accompanied in his travels around the city -y a crowd cf his follower?, but one day late in 1854 he happened to be near]y or quite r.lone on one of the North river piers and s:me of Morrisev's men picked a quarrel with him and inflicted a fatal wound. He died a few days later, saying: "I die a true American." No came an opportunity for Detective S --mpsou to further distinguish himself. Tbe gang that had attacked Poole concealed themselves until a vessel could b'- chartered to take them to the Maderia islands. Sampson, by some mysterious means learned their flight and tb.-jir destination, aud tbe ma-or thereupon tent a fast vessel in pursuit, which overt-10k the the other croft nbout. 1,100 mik-s out. Capt. Sampson, who was on the p.trailing vessel, arrested Lewis Baker, an .ctor, as the principal assailant, and brought him back to New York. He was tried, but it was impossible to prove that b^ com-mitle-i the murder, and be was accordingly acquittted oi this charge, but was sent'to prison aa an accomplice. After his release Baker became quite prominent as a tragedian. Mr. Sarapson's reputation steadily increased untU about 1860, when he resigned from tfco police force, having been tngaged by New York bankers, at a salary of about $5,000 a vetr to protect their interests in
Wall Streei. He has recovered millions of dollars' worth of Btolen securities for financial institutions. He srrested Edgar Gray, tbe forger. He went twice to LoEdou to secure this remarkable criminal, whose talents would _1IH7C won him perhaps a fortune of millions if he cou'.d'h t.ve devoted himself to some hon orsble business.
Few men have received more tasti'r-o-nials of confidence aud esteem thin this large-hearted old delcctive, who might have been wealthy to dsy if be bad not been Gver liberal in his benefactions to the needy.
Lovely Woman's Way.
3an Francisco Chrctjiclo. Will you tell me why, when a woman makes sny very t-ice or pretty remark abcut a man sbe knows to tell you she always feels it incumbent add some explanation that fhe is not in love with him? "Oh, aol Nothing of that kind, you know, but I think he's to nice!" "Oh, they're cute. When they e°-y that to a lady, it's almost, a certainty that there is a little bit of love about it. When they 8 iy it to a man ai out another mnn. it's oniy becsus? they re «fraid ho'li suppose there is no chance for hiio, and he's got to be pretty mean kind of a m=m if they don't ..act to bold hiir- just a little bit. But, never mind that. It was at bsll, nd bo bad just ccme from the E-sst. He bad been in trodnced to a lovely creature. He told me what she -ie. He was one of these fellows who know what ladies wear.
It was a sky-blue tunic, trimmed with green Isce and embroidered in gold »with a ekirt of Valencienr.es linsoy woolsey—or some'hing like that I don't remember. He bed caught her name in intrc.ducii'.m as Miss Something, and he was much touched by her beauty. But he did not like the apparently very friendly terms she was on with another fellow, and he be£an quieily pumping to find cut bow things stood.
Ha Beeme very fond of you?" he said. "Oh. yes he rather likes me." It looks very serious."
Oh, no it's not very serious." "But there is something?" Nothing outcf the ordinary."
Perhaps he is a relation?'' Yes he's a relation." Brother or cousin?" "Neither. He's only a relation by marriage. He's mv husband."
"Just Like a Woman." A worn-in in Newport, at the late Rhode Island ileciion, thought she wss helping along the cause of female suffrage when she laid on the ^ballot box in the First ward polling piace this efiusion:
Lat woman exprefs her opinion, Let her gentle voice be heard Like the mnrmnr of the billow,
Or the sweet sung of a bird.
Which is very pretty, only woman doesn't, as a rule, "express her opinion" quite that way.
William's Weakness.
New 0rlean(| picaJUIM
The dramatic want of the day is plays written to make bad actcrs appear like good ones. Shakspeare is too trying.
?-$?•jg&z^r^"%$ki*- rm^ s~ 't^r^v
PRESIDENT JACKSON'S SPOILS.
Eden nnd Dtlffi Talk* Haw Story
HI'B
Abaat
OU
Hickory.
Much has been said and written concerning the sterling trait* of character possessed by Andrew Jackson, aajs the New York Star. Coantlev storice have been told illustrative of these qualities of his unconquerable resolution, hia devotion to Democratic principle*, his unswerving loyalty to mends. One, how* ever, whioh exemplifies all these virtues and which proves that even in thosedays when the "spoils system" dominated the two great parties. "Old Hickory' believed in the spirit of oivil service, hse not yet foand its way inao print.
It is an interesting narrative, and cleverly told by Edmund Drigga, president of the Williamsburg Fire Insurance company. Mr. Drigga was one of a committee of three sent to Waahington in 1833 by the Tammany hall general committee to request the removal of the famous Sim 8 war tout from the collectorship of the port of New York. Swartont was a Whig of the mo9t pronounced type, and his sturdy partisanship gave great offense to the rulers cf Tammany hall, the one controlling influence in Democratic politics at that time in New York city.
Mr. Driggs, who was a devout adherent to Democratic principles and a firm admirer of President Jackson, was sent with David Banks and John Livingstone, jr., to lay before a Democratic president the impolicy of retaining in office one who was known in every way to be opposed to the policy of a genuine Democratic administrPtion. The narrative is told in Mr. Diggs' own words: "We called upon Old Hickory," said he, "and presented what we were satisfied was a grievance. We laid before the president the resolution passed by the Tammany hall general coaimittee. I was the youngest member of that body, appointed not by reason of my own meriis, but because my father, I presume, wis a great friend of the Hon. Vice-President Martin Van Buren. We ssked the vice president to introduce us and we stated the object of our mission to Mr. Jackson. We asked him to remove Sam Swartont from the position of collactor of the port of New York. Livingstone mads an eloquent addre-s advocating such a course of action. Banks fol lowed in a brilliant philippic showing what a bad man Swartont wae. Old Hickorj listened attentively to the end. 'Well, then, gentlemen,' he observed, slowly and deliberatety, 'ybu are through, are you?* "We all nodded assent, and he looked at us intently for a moment. Then he broke forth: "Well, gentlemen, Sam Swartont is a personal friend of mine. He was a good soldier he fought the battlei of his countrv well he was one of my aids de camp at the battles of New Orleans, and while Andrew Jaekson is president of the United States Sam Swartout will be collector of the port of New York— that's finished that's settled. I will be happy to talk with you on any other subject, but that is settled." "We were all pretty hot," continued Mr. Driggs to the Star reporter, "but re covered our wits before he was through, and admired 'Old Hiokory' for his .nliness.
manner captivated us, md
although disappointed in our expectations, we oould not help loving the .in for his sterling traits, and I would not be surpiked to see the D.mocfe cy throughout the state discover his sterling integrity before 1888."
BBBR.
It-i Hoalthfulnesa from the Life In« irsace Standpoint. We are surprised to note that some of tbe foreign insurance journals have en copying the absurd conclusions of one Thcmann, in a pamphlet recently lb lished in New York to show by statistical figures that '"'beer is the healthiest drink known." Thr.t writer declares, as the result of hia investigations, tha'- the risks incurred in insuring the lives cf habitual beer drinkers are less by 40 per cnf. than the ordinary risks of such transactions." Thomann simply proves what he did not start out to prove, that tbe robust men employed in the breweries, wbo drink from forty to fifty glasses of beer daily, remain in robust health for some years by virtue of their l::rge amount of vital forre and tenacity not by virtue of beer, bnt iu spite cf it. We have closely watched the heavy boerdrinkers in this communitj, with reference to their mortality ratio, for mote than twenty years, and our observations show that out of every 100 who saturate themselves in this immoderate wsy, not more than five out of every 100 pass the sge of 53. Those that escape
Bright's disease ot ur«emic poisoning be come victims of cirrhosis or fatty degeneration, or erysipelas, or appoplexy. Oae or other of these fatal diseases invarbbly gives the finishing touch to the "splendid physique" about which Thomann rants "long before the period of natural expectation. If beer drinkers choose to satisfy their thirst with their favjrite beverage, that is one thing bu if they are led by Thomann's lvin^ s!,\ tistics into the belief that beer will long their lives, or that life compa^i can te foo'ed into acceptance cf wa'kim beer barrels as healthy risks, that quite another.
Sworn Off.
Pnek. Youog Poet (tr. friend): Well, Charley, I've sworn i-ff. "Fuend (enthusisstirally): I'm hesrtI'y gixd of if, old boy, rnd all of yonr friend.0 will feel the sime wsy. I^i'e go and have a drink.
Yi'.ung Poet Didu't I just lei yon I had sworn off drinking. Friend (disappointed): You didn't you id sworn off drinking. I suppled you had tworu eft writing poetry.
May Change His Mind.
Minneapolis Tribon*. Why wor:y over the question whether Cleveland W:-r 's a ranjmiaalio.n cr aot No inat'er w'..at his intention may be now, he has our a year in which to che.'-tf" it- 't wi not be necessary to tbr. iiiiu liowu, bold bis nose and cram the nomination down his thro&t when the time comes.
The Jameses.
Chicago mrcal. More Jamesea hnve filled the presi* denlia! cii-ir than men of any othex name. There wits mes Madison, Jam'.e Montoe, Jaraes Polk, James Buchanan and Iao:es A Qarneld. This fact should be favorable to James O. Blaine.
The Queen and the Czar. Quean Victoria has arrived at Windsor castle from tbe continent. How tie CE tr of Russia must envy hjsr beo tnse 11 the perfect safely with wbigji she meanders wherever and whenever she please?. [Utica World.
What a Female Philosopher Says Rellefontaine Watchman. Providence eande the wicked wind
IT-at bl?we our skirts koee-higb. Bat God good and tends the da That blows in the bad man's eye.
How to See Mrs. Cleveland. Not to disappoint entirely those for whom her informal reception hours were designed, Mrs. Cleveland has adopted
jiv
another plan, which is more satisfying in one sense. In referring to the necessity of abandoning her informal days for tbe reasons mentioned, she added: "Almost all visitors to Washington at this time have friends here, snd therefore can make arrangements for them to CEII, when I shall be very glad to see them." It. is now necessary to write a note to Mrs. Cleveland mentioning tbe presence of visiting friends and their desire tc call. Unless there should be some very cogent reason to the contrary, a day and hour will be fixed when she is at tbe White House for the parties to call. This plan will he continued until the antumn months.—[Philadelphia Times.
A LIFE OF ADVENTURE.
Beginning ia Circus and Ending in the Salvation Army. MiwinnH Bepablican.
Lieutenant Maude A. Harris, a noted Salvation Army "star," is at the barracks here. She is a noted personage, and in ber time has played many parts, and played them well. &he was given to Adam Forepaugh, er., when not quit* 4 years old, and at once put in training for the circus business.
The story she tells of the eufferiugs of of those early days is most pathetic. Child as she was, she wta unable to make friends with the circus people, but she cultivated the acquaintance of the dumb beasts. While she scarcely recalls a kind word spoken to her by sny one of ber numerous masters, she remembers how the great elephant took her into his confidence and affection. He would put his trunk about her, and in many ways make her understand that she had one friend.
When trained she wa) brought before tbe public as "Carrie Brown, the champion juvenile bareback rider of the world," and before she had seen ten venrs had crossed the Atlantic twice and had appeared in almost every city -i note in the United States. She has since rossed the Atlantic fifty times.
Weary of tbe life 6he was leading, the child rider resolved to make an effort to tscape, and, after an evening performance
:n
Philadelphia, made her way
out under the tent, and, clad only in tbe dress of the stage, escaped, and W9s leavng Tenth street for Walnut, when she ilmost dashed into the arms of Edwin Forrest. The great actor caught her and held her fas». "Don't take me back, don'r take me back I" she exclaimed.
Mr. Forrest took her to hie hotel, ve her food and heard her story, and resolved to stand by her. He took up her case and recovered 112,100 from the company for hur past services. For did the kindness of Mr. Forrest stop with th-it He took the girl into his own company and gave her a good start, in life.
Sbe remained with Forrest's touipauy for five years, and wss then engaged for six months by John L. Davenport, after which she was a member of Edwin Booth's company for two years. Then she went with Mary Anderson to Europe.
She is fond of telling of the great Mary, for whose conversion she constantly prays. After leaving the last company she said good by to the stage forever.
She was next offered an engagement by the manager of a "mixed" base ball club, composed, aa the term indicates, of both men and women.
After earning $600 that way, Miss Harris turned ber attention to still another line, and went in as a competitor in a rowing contest and won tbe championship. The Patapsco river at Baltimore was ths scene of her last triumph in this line. "Why not turn jockey rider?" some one suggested, and she caught the idea, and rode in many a race, her partner being Jennie Campbell. She was then but 19, and threw money away "in showers." This was the time when she might have made a fortune, as sbe, with Jennie Campbell, had the field to herself.
She left the business poor and soon had a long sicknees of many months,durng which she first heard the Bible read. Soon after she recovered she wasle-dy by curiosity to go to a Salvation army meet iner, conducted by Cantain Mary Lloyd, and wss converted. Up to that night she had never attended a religious service of any description.
Her life has been filled with strange adventures and narrow escapes. Her limbs have been frequently broken, ami the sight of. one eye destroyed. 8he was once shipwrecked, when the ship on which the Kate Claxton company bed embarked took fire. When saved by a passing ship Miss Harris had been clinging to sp.tr for one night and almost one day.
Lieutenant Harris comes to New England to raise funds for the Rescue Home of Fallen Girls, established in New York by Commissioner Smith. She is greatly devoted to her work and to the army, and speaks with great force and vigor. 'After earning and throwing awny thousands of dollars, Lieutenant Harris is working for $6 a week—if phe gets it— and boardii herself out of that," is tha way a Silvationist puts it. Whea quee tioned in regard to her strangely cventfnl life she ia ready to respond, but always closes by aayins, "One day with tLa Lord is better than all."
Bennett's Wedding Present. London Society. Mr. C.tvendish Benlinck,' wbosa marriage lo Miss LiviDgst.on was a Newport sensation of some years back, is a bosom friend of Mr. Gordon Bennett. Perhaps tbe bosom would not be as warm to him if Mr. Bennett knew this story: That gentleman on the occasion of the wedding, purchased at a Newport shop and sent to the bride and groom two superb umbrella stands. Why he should regard an umbrella stand as an appropriate wedding gift is not exactly clear, but Mr. Bmnetth'i ideas of his own once in a while. A couple of weeks after the wedding Mr. Cavendish Bentinck stalked into the shop whence Mr. Bennett's gift had come and wanted the dealer to buy the stands back. "They are a demssed naistnc*," t'«? said, "and we cawn make any n*2 si them, don't you know. So I tbawt you might make a cosh ofiah on them an A take them awl our hands." "Well, sir," replied the urbane shopkeeper, "I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll ask Mr. Bennett, and if he has noobjec tions—" "Blets me soul!'' gasped Cavendlah-
Bentinck, quite aghast. "That'll nevaw do, don't yon know. Gad! nevaw." The stands were afterward sold to a se«nd-hand shop.
A Scotchman's Reason.
8an Francisco Chronicle. It was a noted old Scotch laird, who when he went io Paris, took his ordinary country clothes to wear. He met a friend.
What are you going about Paris in those old clothes for "Ob, naebody kens me," said the
laird Sometime afterward they met in laird's own country town "You've got the same old clothes, see?" "Ob, weel, everybody kens me."
Ohio the Mother of Artists. New York World. Ohio hss been the mother of artiste1* Among her sons who havB won fam« with the biush or knife are Tbomatf Cole, Hiram Powers, James H. Beard, W. H. Powell, Worthington Whittridge, J. A. Ward, A. 8. Wynant, W. L. Sontag, John J. Einckin, the late F, ite J. 8. Reinhart and the late Wales.