New York Clipper (Jan 1881)

T348 -O 3H. O Xj I jANUABY22, 1881. CLIPPER 90NCS: FBOPIiK, BT THB FTOPssH, JUP IOB THK PKOPLX." TlkaV Styilale Colored. atorcdla. ' 9XSICAXXD WUttM AMD BYAXB BT WTLL. ■ - ' BURXBT. >«Ht two rearIsstrng eaptlveaiar. srjUsh colored swells; We Jot WTtra* trees, charming Bs iBtoga w^ Wtawwa startled an the Uki and everybody «J - -■ rstylasx^ dancing eopeeaulaw msheereaslgh sbeawetbweye. Mm ear nmnnat ■■ " ■ " v. to tae^ezHt and quit* hard toexaell; _ jEi??S!i^iibo«rirai<»» «tyn»h «oim irtt or an the both, ar wbtfews ' WMMi *' 1 * nd tD = 'S^SSlii« about dgbt- nflEiaied as a sort of muter of cere-1 beyond bis reach, and there was no way of getting £!& Z in uSrSios attuned up to tte green I It except by smashing In the glass-* piece of sae- monlea In Jliejilace, «ePPe» »P " ■ rllege which wouldeauBe Hie society to extermln- ™ It u oast the time andaUls him with clnbe. tt waa reported that Jim « u pest we raw, I orndorff had a akuU which waa Just the thine. ■ Ever ready to lend he, : nscaeSinlBstC] sharker oat i artisan to f nafitsBttu taeeaarnUogei ^l£ZWtoi£en l nj wellab. ereetsre* beam a sign •i-»^?? B 7S t aTua B taltUli. etc Th« Botfal sassm On>am Hoboken. AS BOKO BT CHAR B- OOOPKR AND OEOHCE FBATT. TBaaolld bus Bow co mee tola way— Basrah! tmnmbf With Joy »• »»U the enaplctou* day- Bam* I bomb I was. ensuing on tn Union square, Asa1eius1jy»w win meet bun then; ■ wWITaSJSaradretrlcb and rare Wham Scroton comes to town. " •'' We*",setter wand the festiveboard— Borrabl bomb! ^ AllbesurJi to spend w« ea&t azwsra— Harsh t hurrah 1 inao wit wffl sparkle, beer wUlflow. llauantes-make our flues glow; WaqfaDnt hub befare we ko Vbta Bjeyotan emnea to towi i to as bewul recite— ' Bomb I bomb 1 O John I too*U narahm aa quits— Banmbl hurrah I We*n tabs- bin up a dissy eoaa^ Aadtaoa weHl sock ft to ban strong. Forces* I snow we'll wait not loot Wbea B^jotoaoomaatot IfPlatt at act to vmtr Batrahl barrent • Tban Saenys bound fo go lor Mm— Harrahl barrahl vrvn aat bla words to moatc sweat— psnans asms air that's obsolete— jUlSn we're dona wall make blm treat . -Whoa Keynton come* to town. Tbla la a bappy torn of fkta— Hurrah] hurrah t IlewOaopereanrccrwpermte— Bnrrabl bnrrabl Tka wonder oftba ana Is ban. A wealthy bard wbo lorea bla bear— Turk to uaweteDine cbantlelaerl JohnEeynton islntmm. ' Let DUaoa. Pond, and Blame now rent— Hanb l barrab! last Tony battsn np Ma rest— Barrabl bnrrabl lotOordon smlla and Bardlnf groan. And Baalfleld nlar bla talrpbona; To-day wall 1st tbem aU alone, FarKayntoo^eometotowD. avraoa Unaaowa. Go Away, le T aatHwl. mXMD TO SOL. BUTTH BUSBELL, BT TOHMT TCCE72B. I Ion a nlea yoenc n»l— Bar name Ls Balbr Jones— In tha sUUiia-ebnrcb aba amga On teadaya la sweet tones; I always can on ber *: wbena>arI|tothatway; m> Bat, w fcen I try to slasher, r Tone abeH always say: ■ Ctjaraa—Oo away. lababod: so away, Ickabod; Iebabed. lebabod, yoa*n too tree: Ooaway.Ichibod: go away, Icnatnd— - Idiabod, Icbabod, don*t touch me.' ' . Of ooBraa. I aarmad a-acared Whan aba wtrok) bellar oat, - Batlnaimiewbne. Of Im wa'd talk about; y>d aldla wp to ber, Ataost-yaral wonld tell; aodTaa rd gin ber a Ufbt aqoaeia, • ToaenghtJobear her yell: . - Ciena.—Qo away, Icbabod, etc. Twos on » pleasant nlsbt That oobar T did can; 1 wtabed lor bar to oome With me onto a ban. WbuO walktDR bone I asked ber . If abewosldbe my wUa. -•Bbawblsoered low, and said: screen "Oome F aali In readiness." An eld woman and a young man—the mother and amaneed lover of the model—at once atepped from behind the screen and. leaned against toe waUatthe aide, with their eyes fastened on the h .i. Then, almost almnltaseonaly. there glided: out from the aide of the screen and lightly mount- ed thedalaa vonng girl, wearing what appeared to be a single garment of light, floating material, and baring ber nee concealed by a red vrU. list- ened around the npper part ol the head and laning to a point last below the chin. "Take position as I have Inatmoted yon," aald Berr Ornben, addressing her In I tal i an . She placed herself at the edge, and In the centre of the staging, directly u> the midst of the flood- ing light, standing erect and motionless. "Disrobe* 1 waa the next order. *: By a swift, clever movement of ber haa/s and Angers or rather, by a succession of movements too rapid to follow with distinctness—her single garment was stripped from her person and tossed behind the screen; and then she stood there before na all. perfectly nude, yet "clothed on with chas- tity. 11 and with ber.entire (laming. periecUy- nranded, clearly-chiseled and purely-developed figure so instinct with the spirit of classic tjbntyi and aymmetry as to arouse no other sensailamthan lost of absolute artistic gratification In the wreast of the aasthetle beholder. Hen Ornben continued Instructing the model In respect to her amende, she obeying his slightest word by some sort of change or movement of her body ead limbs with the ease and cleverness of an adept—with here the depression of a knee, there the elevation of an arm, and there again the carv- ing of a thigh, and so on—nntfl at lost she was in the reqnlred pose, which at a final word from him she maintained with the lmmovablenees of a carven *">Tfii"i« in readiness, gentlemen," said Herr Orn- ben, taming to bla (ellow-stadents. The silence was Instantly broken by a tmbdned, jnnxmaxons sound, as the artists fell to work with an e uejgj and earnestnewi as If for dear Die. The scwJptor with his clay, the painter at his easel, and the draughtsman with bis crayons—each si i mini to emulate bla neighbor In dlspatah,ln tne apparent effort to seize that glowing moment with the dutch ol inspiration, and snatoh with noble greed all that was possible of that perfect ngure, vouchsafed as a copy for the Idealization of their color-fraught and hourl-haunted dreams. Hot being an artist myself, however, I cared lost then but Utile for their enthusiasm or their toll. 1 was entranced, wholly fascinated, by the ethereal beauty of the nude figure on the dais. The atti- tude was striking. It might have been that of a nymph groping her way through a cavern's en- trance, or tnrougn the curtaining vines of a sylvan deo. In order to keep her tryst with some mortal lover. One band was pressed to ber bosom,-while the other reached forward as If to pat aside some obscurity: ber veiled face also leaned for- ward, and slightly to one side, as If she lis- tened Intently as she groped; and the entire attitude or the youthful and symmetrical figure of alabaster whiteness was picturesque and ravish- ing beyond expression. I was in a sort of dream, and was only awakened at last by hearing the master or ceremonies say: "The time's up; that win do; Blanca," in a voice of disagreeable interruption. Then the vision van lshed. There waa simply a fleeting glitter of shining shapeliness, accompanied by something like a growl from the plebeian ;->ver who had been watching the scene from the Bide; and then I knew that Blanca was resuming her street-dress behind the screen, and that my ecstasy was thenceforth but a remembrance. In a few minutes, bavins; received ber florins from Berr Gruber, she took her departure, still closely veiled, accompanied by ber mother and Pletro, the latter—a fine-looking human animal of the mountain type—casting a look of general de- fiance and suspicion at all of ns as be passed into the anteroom, with the model pressing closely to his side. After a buzz of various comments on tbe part of the artists, a large group of them. Slgnor Sforzla and James was Interviewed, aid to the legitimate drama, and being an admirer of Shakespeare and a theatre-manager himself, be promised to send op the required article Immedi- ately: and after the property-man had waited and waited, and stamped and swore around the green- room for about an hour, it arrived. It waa found to be no other than the skull of a favorite bull-pup of Jim's, which bad been killed In a tcoo match at Butcher Town several years ago. arabam, the scenic-artist, was next appealed to, and author- ized to name his figures If he would turn ont a skull by hall-put nine. The persevering artist went to work, and, by pasting sheets of white pa- per over a bundle ol old socks and palnUngin the remainder of the make-up, be produced arskull. the natural appearance or which sent a thrill of ghastly horror through the audience, and must nave caused the tragedian to experience a thrill In touching It— Neeaaa Otrontole. " DEFt SBARROW BIROS." - wanna fob thb bbw tobk cirrm, " BVCBABXBT BUB8ELK I loft do niob der abarrow-blrds, Und see dhem shklp sroond ' UndbanOtbrTonnnnndalitngsdoesd Uboa dartrossn anrand. I dhlnk dar abllly Tintsr-alr Dbelrlsedlatosavoaldtrene, .. Ol obey dan'd btsy bnb-a*otcb so much Vndabeoot among der dreea. ^ , I loft to bat' db' si u sonn qndsldo By vlndow efery day, Una Tntcb dbrm ead der grnmba und ahdealm* oddar'a grub. avey. I tore do bear dMm abeoid and frat, Und vsteh dbem Then dhey nebd, Und bear dbalr Yagner opera Then Dbey go do rooad ad night. DarTinter-dayaTonld lonesome be Mltoot dar sbamwa ban; Der odder birds all acbooded vben Dbey saw Oback Freed abbear; Beside der rudow mil oar blpe— Der Ylodeoadsldfl may roar— Te retch der sbarrow-blrds and dhlnk Id's Bnmmer-dlmovooce more. AIRY FAIRY VEEE, OR THE GOLDEN CRESCENT C03CLnDKD. na mi nw tobk cutfbb, BT JAKES WIGHT. I shall never forget my entrance Into that luxuri- ously-appointed salon. Lady Fatima eanied me a cap of tea with her own hands, and sweetened it with an Ineflable smlla. I had never seen anyono so volaptu- onsly lovely. At her request it waa a morning visit, and she wore a loose flowing robe that enhanced with- out conceallog tbe' atately proportions of ber figure. Ber manncn wero'United with an Imperious coquetry, which waa the most'siloriag of her enarms. I bad met, noder all kinds of circamataucea, all sorts of women; but never before had I looked on one so matchlessly calculated by physical beauty, to capti- vate tbe outward senses and carry the heart by storm. I may as well state, first aa laat, that I was com- pletely fascinated, sly senses and reason fonook me and fled. I was carried like a cork down the rushing tide of passion. Within a week I had proposed and been accepted. The evening papers pnbb'ahed witty Items, intimating that the charming Lady Fatima HoUneux bad "captured Uonsleur AugustasTaoghan, and bis annuity of ten thousand a ysar." I reaentad these published Impertinences: but I felt that I would only invoke ridicule on myself if I publicly contra- dicted them. Meanwhile Lady Fatima never refr Ted to tbem, and iu doe course we were married at the Engllab chapel, as printely as possible. We pro- ceeded to Borne to spend our honeymoon. We had been married a week when tbe ahadow of a We were aauotering together on Jane Fatima; but my stage name was Airy Fairy Ten when 1 lost It." ' ,. I bad not expected'thia. Her shocking conduct ex- asperated me. I explained my connection with the crescent in terms of withering sarcasm. I spoke of the Utoolnr. She showed her shoulder at once. My temper became mon violent aa I talked. I need aome unjustifiable language. She reminded me that in her marriage with me she had been as grievously deceived ssmyself. Shehad married me esthe possessor often thousand a year, and had been nodecelved when too late. Aa the deception bad not been my fault, aba bad made upher mind to say nothing about it Honey waa not ovuythlng In the world. Ber conduct, contrasting so strongly with mine, vexed and Irritated' nje mora. Her own temper rose. Bitter words pissed between us. I struck her. "No nun shall ever strike me a second time I' - she cried, ea she bounced cut of the room. I neither followed nor softened. I persuaded myself that I was tbe injured party. My eonsln came In, with a took of alarm on her face. "Ton ban been quarreling!" she aald. "I know Itf" I matured; "leave me alone; I want to be alone.' 1 An hour afterwards my wife and her maid left Rome, and I neither saw nor heard or her for a whole year. My narrative, thank goodness, is drawing to a dose. I waa suffering from Inflammatory rheumatism, and I bad gone to Wiesbaden for the waters and the baths. One evening, as I waa resting on the sofa In my win- dow and smoking a cigar, I saw a figure among the flower parterres that I Instantly recognised. It was my wife. Time had msllowed and softened the memory of our quarnL I bad learned to recognize that I waa in the wrong. I longed to apologize and to ask bar forgivaneaa on my knees. I rung for a waiter. Before he arrived I had changed my mind. "To-morrow will do/' I thought; <«I will send a mes< ■age for her to-morrow." When I retired that night I was so happy that I could not alaep. ' I was exceedingly sorry that I had not effected the reconciliation on the impulse of the ■better moment. " To-morrow," I muttered. Then I fell asleep. Bow long I slept U mora than I can tell, but —sr* I And I am using precisely the same language to de scribe my experiences aa that I have already need to describe my vision, or nightmare.- As the experiences wen absolutely identical, the language, tobe accurate, should also be Identical. Itlstherefon notnecesaary to repeat it Tbe same woman—whom I now recog nlsed to be my wife—tbe same dress, tha right arm behind her, the fixed, flaahlng eyes, the stesithy tread, the rustling of satin, the uplifted arm/-the gleam of the long blade, the diamond stars, the sensation of the eager steel on my breastbone, tbe yell, the falnt- *ng fit, all were perfectly and sequentially rapnduced. Bnt in the latter care then waa this Important dif- ference: An actual blow had been struck, and real blood waa flowing. My life had been saved by the merest chance. Tbe point or the weapon had been Intercepted by the Arm sfernirm-bone. Tbe wound waa painful, bnt not seri- ous. I never said a word about it to a living soul. I was wrong la striking her," I said to myself, 'and now wean equaL Let me go in peace." T have neTer seen my wire since. Here the narrative closed. My friend Doctor a—, however, had something to sdd. Ten yesrx after- wards, he said, husband and wife again met In Rome. Neither bad thought of marrying. They were brought together through tbe diplomacy ot Cousin Emma, and ware perfectly, reconciled. - . "When I sawthsmlast in Paris.'' said the doctor In conclusion, '.' they, wen apparently a most loving couple, happy.as turtle-doves." m —— -•—■-• ~--s— _"*-*—— ■ memory fell over me. «e wore hudhhui wgc«u» and myself of the number, gathered around Grant- tbs rinclo at sunset, the skr all purple and gold, be ley Edgecomr^.^tiejronDK^ Britl^^rrlBt, wtiose | hlnd th8 dome of St. Veter's. Wo bad been Ton Just bet your Bfel" a no man you'n bear bar say: C*C7H».—Go away, Icbabod, < The PoiiriXB's Model. BBS SOB THB BBW TOBX Otirm, BT NAXHAN D. UBNBB. It was In some, tn the winter or is—, that I first aavd 'tbe supreme gratification of gazing, en- tranced, upon the exqnlalte, undraped figure ol Blanca Denaeampa, the then celebrated living model of toe ait-studentB residing there. The sitting was in a large, dilapidated upper room of an old. Borgia palace, which had been hired espe- cially Sot the prosecution of studies from the life {rerAna,'but slncerdearlywno had grown so enthnsl- aatle Lai Ins commendations of Btanea's form as to excite my curiosity to a great degree. tiT, no common model, as .you will find, said fee. "She ls not to be classed for an instant with' the troop of bold-eyed, robust creatures,. joaBg and old, wbo for two florins are so willing, and errcn eager, to step out of their rags under a skyngbt, and pose before a hundred or more grtn- suBat, raw students as almost anything, from a Madonna, to a bacchante, and with their tatter- cstmalfans of lathers, bnsbanda, or lovers, in beelle-bixnred waiting for a lion's share of the plt- tane«yielded, by their revelation of flesh and lfmb. No na 1 esmpsTed with these Blanca te as a — ttra»h 1ir t Her form fast the same time *"«*»»h»' and ethereal—a living; realization of. the noblest Ideals ot Creek art—a confirmation of the sable of Phidias and hla living statue." These remarks were made aa we were on our way to the Ute-study. t face of this mcomparable model, whose farm yon so vaunt, la that ltkewl kewlse beautiful 7" I "I cannot tell you. 1 ' he answered, with an air of mystery, "because I have never seen It, as indeed moat be the case wlthneatiy all the ardsts before whom abe poses, I'm inclined to think." Then, In re pry to my look of surprised inquiry, be went on: "Apart from tbe exceptional beauty I have hinted at, Blanca differs from all other professional large canvas, It was generally admitted, presented the finest result of the Bitting that bad been Just afforded. It was not the first hehsd had, by any means, and the picture, with the exception ol the face, which was a confused blur, was almost complete. Its tttle was to be "The Nympb Egerla Keeping Tryst with Sums." and. as an excellent study from Blanca Dellacampa's charms. It .represented the nnde nvmph as putting aside the leafy curtain of .hergTotto, preparatory to stealing Into tbe presence of her Imperial lover, supposed to be waiting for her within. "Tbe picture Is superb, and must be a success," said I, lor I bad just been Introduced to tbe artist by Slgnor Sforzla. "But I wish you might have a portrait of the model's face and bead to add to the ngure—that la, If she Is beautifully leatured." "She is just that, for I once caught a glrmpse of ber taoe, which ls angelic," aald the artist. ''And, ~""! succeed In making her -re." ^j.^.™ „„. .—„--, said one of his friends. "Pletro, the lover, ls aald to always have his band j on his stiletto whenever anyone approaches her." '•Nonsense I Do you suppose the beggar could turn me from my purpose?" said Edgecombe, with, a feverish laugh. "Butwmlt and BeeV ' After dusk on the following evening I waa tra- versing the more squalid; quarters of the city when Ireoognlied Edgecombe standing In a broken archway in conversation with a young woman, |\vbo turned -a singularly lovely face towarda me. as I was passing, and then almost Instantly sep- arated from her companion. I had only taken a . few steps farther wben I beard mr name pronounced, and turned to nave B dguLu mbe overtake me... '- : VDld yon note .the. face of the girl I. was talking with f» said be. 'Tea; I remarked the singular beauty of it," I replied. "Who was •ber". "Wbo but Blanca DeUacampa..our veiled mod- el t" be exclaimed In Joyous triumph. "Didn't I tell you I would manage It, old fellow. She visits my studio In secret to-morrow for the purpose of Bitting for ber portrait. Honey did It, my boy 1 I argued successfully with her that fifty florlnB would come nicely Into the housekeeping arrange- ments that she'll soon be making with her Jealous Pletro, and she could not withstand the bribe. Fifty florins ls a stiff price, you may say, for the privilege or portraying an Italian gipsy's face: but wait, till yon see my nude Egerla in Jones* Whitehead's gallery, with Blanca's angelic face, as silently contemplating the gorgeous scene, and my eyes had Involuntarily turned from the rote-l»»f and opal transnanocy or the sky to my wife's race, when tbe perplexing Idea sprang suddenly up In my mind that I had seen somebody eiceedlngly like my Fatima somewhere before. Who could it be f Bad! seen ber before T Or bad 1 seen somebody closely re- sembling ber T Ah I. I remembered I She had intuitively felt the Intensity ol my look, and aha turned on me an Inquiring glance. "Do you know, Fatima, darling, I aald, "yoar face and figure have a wonderful resemblance to the face and figure of my married Consin Emma?" * ' " Indeed I " sne.said, coldly turning away her.head. Other surprises were In store for me that eventful day. : When we returned to our hotel, a note,in*band- writiog that recalled another memory, was waiting for fee. ' I broke the seal, and read aa follows: . Dbab buuBD* ara—My baabsnd and I arrived ben ten minutes since, and lurice of my r-urprne whn ^accident- ally discovered not only that tou were eejoanine ben. bottbs^vQuwenactnanyaeeompsDte^bryoaewlfe. You ntoxfctvbor, why didn't you uU me you wen inanK to be married! I am bunlns with impatience to ate von and ber. Always affectionately. Totra Cpoaw ehha. I pass ovsr-tbs gush and effoarrenessof.the meeting. I had cot'seen my. ooosin for oyer a doses yean, and I was surprised to - nereelve ■ the ■ loxuriousneM of bloom and development ahe had attained. The like- ness between my wife and ahe waa apparent to the moat ordinary observer, although it did net require a moment's glance to discover tost Fat.lpia's beauty waa mon cutaaieally'pare, more subtly witching and refined than that of Emma. The aame perceptible su- periority extended to their costumes. Emma's waa elegant and expansive; but my wue wss arrayed In tbe. highest art of.Paris. I.winst make the honest confession tbat tbac^aeasaiison. was particwhkrlr gTmtl fring.tii.aM; and Lsras .debated to.aercalver-that Brooks. TTmma's'miuTonsIre husband, also betrayed by his glances, that my Fatima bore off' the palm of beauty. . The ladles were very cordial with each other, and when my wife and Mr. Brooke went, upstairs to dress for dinner Emma and I lingered behind for a ten minutes'chat over old times. Hardly had tbe door been dosed behind my wife wben Emma brake out ''8070U married hex after aU, Ons I" The exclamation staggered me—I couldn't under- atand Ita relevancy/ "Ton will hardly be disposed tn ssr that ahe re- sembles me now, I suppose. Tor she bas grown ever so muoh handsomer. Gracious goodness I ' ma. ''howabehaalmprovedl*' Whatever do yon mean, Em mat What an you ' cried Em rnod*abete essentially to.the tact that rte will I B^cVrravtsIiSg 1^^570^w^Tu'ear I ^M'^t^ttffi'T™ to be ISS?JSS;™5SL??i some noise In the artistic world I" Mean? v"*' 7 wife—Airy Fairy Tere, to be never pose unless with berl wajs accompanied by rwo persons—ber mother, an avaricious old nag, and her lover, Pletro Brariatta, aa* eaHs him—a handsome, brlgandlsh-looklng yoang vagabond, b'rnaerra professional model or I some repute—who Is to marry Blanca wben she ahall be eighteen, ahe betng now In ber eighteenth year. Her face ls always concealed from view even in coming and going,and.they personally attend to veiling It even more thoroughly just be- ture; gin disrobes and steps out upon the platform. Tbey watch her as a pair of bawka would watch a'wore, and jff """'y rf * > " 1 ' OT1 g* every admiring glaaoe tbat would seek to penetrate the covering' of ber face. It eaxmot but be a modest and beauti- ful one, if any thing like In keeping with her form; bet tbe Italian gipsies, to which race her people owe their extraction, are pescullar in their feel&igs. For Instance, tbonj(b that lover of hers can see nothing wrong In tbe erasure of bis sweetheart's body tor ts^-Bdva u ce inen t of art. I doubt not that he would resent the portrayal of her face In con neetloo with her form, to the destruction of her In cegnJto, by nothing short of assassination.' Oh, ahe la divine I But you will see for yourself, you win see." With my enrtrjelty thus heightened to an un WQsrard degree, I followed blm Into the old palace we bad by this tins* reached. Aaeeadlng a stsljeaae, he left me In an ante- eJaajeroer, while he passed, in to the life-study apart- ment just beyond, la order to prepare the way for my introduction therein. TJ» antechamber waa nearly filled with a motley -crowd of professional models, wbo were hanging -about tbe place, according to their dally custom. In tbe hope of realizing a florin or two by some de- mand npen their qualification s. They were of all ilfsi iIjhTiiiih There were old beggar some I smiled at his enthusiasm, wished him every success, and we separated. One afternoon a week later I returned to Rome from a brief sojourn In Ravenna, and one of the first acquaintances I met wan my lrlend Sforzla, who was In a state ol agreeable excitement. "Come right to the picture-dealer's, and see Edgecombe's Egerlal" be exclaimed.. "It bas only been on exhibition since nine this morning—not In the gallery, mind you, but In the shop-window— and It Is already the talk of the town. He will get hundreds of guineas for it. The figure ls absolute- ly a masterpiece, and where under heaven he could nave got tbe model for the face that goes with It Is a mystery to us alL The harmony Is per- fect, and It Is the face of an angel P' "Edgecombe must, then, have been less confid- ing; tonls brother-artists than he was to me," said L willingly accompanying blm, and I related the secret of the portrait as we went along. A dense crowd, comprising persons of all condi- tions, was collected In front of tbe great shop- window or Messrs. Jones 4 Whitehead, situated in one of the chief thoroughfares running back of the Vatican. We pushed onr way through. There, clothed In the artist's Ideallzatlon^and occupying a massive frame, was the nymph Egerla, Indeed—or, rather, there was the gipsy maiden In heavenly portrait- ure, chaste In her sublime nudity, and with a delicious smile of expectancy on her lips, as she reached ont a . hand to brush aside the leafy cur- tain ol her cavern's entrance, and bent her ear. as If listening To the' far loo trails of her mortal lover," aa Byron bath 1C We gazed upon It breath- lessly. Tbe Impression produced was too pro- found to make itself known by noisy encomiums. -J^^S^rTS^iX.nES??^ Suddenly, however, a muttered curse, in a hoarse, for farther con' on forked sticks, who might be thrown. j -^,,,,,, &t & e „„ ot ae cr0 wd\ causeU " Fatima and r cavs-witches or I ^gf^^a me to turn. The curse had proceeded 1 lntoaeanvas aa gipsy crones, or eavs-wltebcs, or lnlbelTrealiJiaragtprjof pUtureaqne mfnndlcancy; ytrang and middle-aged women, with babies and without, and mesKBy good-loo kino; - wbo would, answer far •;A .Certege-ecfcne,'' "Kneeling at a <JnBxa.B>>«Spena on a Hountain-road, n or some other BsUnter's fancy of similar Import; young peasaasBrglrU. pretty and otherwise, and plctur- oesrutj even in their want of cleanliness, ready to >wsm In any attitude and condition for whatever ■% requirement would furnish them: with a paltry coins; and even little girls, elfish and %rty.tsat interesting, wbo might be used with ad-' either In groups or singly, to the profit of iter and picture-dealer. The male portion of the crowd was even more as cites e neoua. - There was among tbem the where- wltiadaar the fashioning of brigands, friars, water- Csvrrlera, fruit-venders, ylneyard-tollera, scriptural czaraoierB, gladiators, boys at prayer, muleteers, sMBWtobeVukB, gultar-playeiB, and pretty much every taring else you can imagine aa. connected with the demands of art In a city full of eager, imaginative and Usdnatrtoas students; Like those of from the lips and bosom of Pletro Scarlatta, tbe model's lover, wbo stood there livid with astonish- ment and fury. He only remained for a moment, however, looking at the picture with eyes that .'blazed like living coals; and then, shaking hie clenched hands threateningly above Us head, he dashed away. "I fear some evil consequences will result from I this.", said SfbrzlB In an anxious ' tone as we moved away.: •'.,'' :We made several I burst Into a fit of uproarious laughter. "Why. my dear cousin," I said, artampttng vainly tobe serious, "what absurd kink have yon got into your head f Ton talk as If you bad been takiug some- thing, and It had got Into your head. My wife was tbe I«dy Fatima Mollnena wben'we wen married." -'I don't can," aald my consin, with an obstinate toss of her head; "she wsa Airy Fairy Ten before she was Lady Fatima MoUnenx, or I am very greatly mis- taken." "PshawI Nonsense! The Idea is too absurd, to merit even a moment's consideration," I rejoined with unneceessry hest. for I waa absurdly annoyed at my cousin's blaoderiog sod lasaltlag persistence. " Sure as jou stand there. Gas," she said, returning calmly to tho charge, "I am right. I do not forget faces. I went and saw Airy Fairy Tere two nights after you aaw her, because yonr mother had told me what you aald, and I waa annoyed to be compared to a men dancing-girl I sawaometblngelse that night, for I watched ber closely through an opera-glass—I saw that she hsd been tatooed with two letters at the very enrve of her l**ft shoulder. The two letten were J. F. Tour poor mother—my annt—gave me a little chamois-leather bag containing aome of my bride- cake (aa we both aospected) and a gilt crescent On the crescent were two rude letters. They were J. F. T put this and that together, and came to tbe conclu- sion tbat you bad aome war socceeded In being Intro- duced to the dancing-girl, and that the crescent was lon-token. Bat I sept my opinions to myself, for thought that when yon mingled with the world and devoted yourself to yonr university studies yon woald •forget all about Airy Fairy Tere —r-" ''Augustus, an you coming? Dinner la waltlngl" It waa the voice of my wife. I had no opportunity for further conversation with my consin that eranlug. as Fatima aod 1 were under an engagement to spend the orenlng with tbe' Com tense of Bsateme. Tbe party assembled In tbe Comtesse's salon waa mostly composed of society tattlers. I had plenty of time for cultivating my own thoughts. Need I say stoppages by the way, and then proceeded to a little restaurant, kept by Jean Plauchez,the Savoyard, tbat we were in the habit of frequenting, together with many artistic friends. A noisy and excited crowd was collecting at Its doors. We hurried forward, and discovered cause enough for the disturbance. Edgecombe, armed with a heavy walking-stick, wsa defending himself as best he could from a murderous attack on the part of Scarlatta, who, stiletto In band and fairly foaming at the mouth, was dashing at him like a «"»*"""» Some policemen, chancing to hurry on „, . ,__.„ ^ _„ „„„.i„ 1 the scene at this instant, promptly knooked Pletro i^SS!SrS»h^ 1 2i 1 2SS? u iiS down, disarmed him. and bore blm away, strng- JTTJti^i^^^^J^^ ^'m^15? gUniTand roaring Uke a thwarted wild beast; ** gain existing; as the common attrao- « ^* K< j a ^co m £i* Ulan sj, to his English dexterity 1ST AND ARTISTE. tTDWABD eOMTTON. Now, beginners, pltaur' shouted our canboy one night, And I qnlt&sd my elass in a deuoe of a fright: For I knew tbst "Lore's Saerlfloe" I'd to eommenee. And "beginner'' I was In a duplicate sense. Tlaving doae my flrat scene (a gay 'To flier" I played), I rushed back to my numerous mixtures tor aid. And was quickly engrossed, aa our -fanny man" aald. In the copy exact eta t-""'"- wax beadt Just then an old stager earns hnrrylnc In late— . I've lost my "make-up' box—wul yon lend xac pour*, mater' I respected bis talent, bla worth, and bla age. And waa charmed to assist him get up lor the stage. Cosmetics, and pencils, rouge, carmine, and blney Powdera ranausT from brown to a dainty fleab-hne. Sdeka of paste, fcrreUen staff for tbe eyebrows and eyas, Puffs, brushes, gam, scissors, and shades In hair-dyes I I spread tbem before him with pardonable pride;' > In bewildered surprise the eollectua be eyed: Then he need some cannlns, a stray bit ot burnt cork. Calmly thanked me, and off to tbe atage *gan 10 walk. Dumbfounded I fodowed, watched bis sees ess tbe Fner, Varked bla ease, his distinctness, avaee, spirit, endure; Then exclaimed, on reriewinc this elicnmstance qnalnt: He muiae up with Mc acting the lack ol gjieposiur". thing ls progressing. Ko doubt she la tbe child of poorWn^so leave a couple of eojereWnsf 0 ' ler. Poor Utile creaturel I am so very, w tfrrcr." "Very well, my dear,".repUed Lord r^i^, leav- ing the box; "1 will Just run around, and will leave a coupler sovereigns. Well, well, how charitable JO °Iam P aorrV W tok'^' 1 ' B ald Lord Fullar. upon bis return, "that the Utile thing 1b more hurt than was at first thought Thev have taken' her home, but, aa I thought you would like to know how she got on. I procured her address. Here it Is." Ladv Fullar took the Utile piece of paper and read: "Mra. Da vis, 21 Market street Bono." "Tea." she said, as she folded the paper, "I should Uke to know how she progresses." . MY GHOST * A MIMTWABi IKTHAWDIKAHT1 BT VICTORIA YOKES. ttoav la av few minutes my friend returned with face, and I waa at once Inducted into the Benertnrta of me life-study. Iiaaglai a kmo, lofty and half-ruin oner room, of. say, Sdrty-flve by twenty-five feet, with a small pisiform, or data, about three feet high, at the liilasir end,connecting atone side with an ln- Uuaiiili flu by green-balze screens, and having dlreetly-oveT It a peaked skylight, through which oamie pouring the dear reflection of the rich Ital- ian snntbybt, deeding; the dais with a pure but guMtry subdued edbes. Then Imagine the space between this bright spot and tbe door thronged with artists, with their materials at hand, ready fp f wmk , and with all eyes fixed expectantly on tfe« pjaxarrm: a eoerfuaion of Improvised ateliers, wiffi their owners before them—painters, brush and pallet in hand, seated or standing at their rs/wji ^nptitsniiM arith tbelr crayons and their septa ready tor copying-as soon as the model Shan step tnio view—and senlptors. bare - armed and ~ lar. with statues and statuettes in various stages ccaaitlon 'before them, and great heaps of ■Tp, alate-colored potter's clay at their efdei breathlesajv earnest and sincere In their devo- ' atoel~to their art; and a pretty fair .Idea can be " ■ 1 of the strange scene that was presented to at single-stick, escaped without so much as a scratch. In a abort time, bowever, we learned that the beautiful model Blanca DeUacampa was lying- murdered in her mother's apartments, ahe having been T*ab*rr*1 to death by ber Infuriated lover Just previous to the la tier's attack on the artist, whom be doubtless regarded aa only a shade less guilty than she. I am pretty sure that Edgecombe's con- science must have caused him many a pangf, not- withstanding that be sold hla Egerla before the week was ont for twice as much aa be had hoped to get for It. At all events, he for a long time thereafter seemed humbled and careworn, while his contribu- tion to the anng sum we made up for poor Blanca's mother was Just one-half the entire amount and nearly all the art-students in Rome attended the poor girl's funeral In a body. Aa for Pletro Scar- latta, ne committed suicide in prison. will begin upon the model In a few mln- ■wtmmi* ,«saldBfbnla In a nUntwblsper.aswe tMsrV^r station in tbe rear, whence we could can the artists and their paraphernalia. •Tr^dssy she poses for Egerla, and someiblngvery One Is <aromlsed, for there is plenty of genius, as wen as* talent, in the room. Do .you note tbat j M i M T SjntHlBhman vonderf—the tag vourg fjUow ao latBdsomo and so fair, standing be lore the g.canvas? Well, that ls Qrantley Edgecombe, •Bulger brother of Lord B ■ . 'He baa been ^^-udvoi the subject for a long tube. If as be hopes, his picture will be ex- JL In the gallery of, tha Messrs. Janes A Whlte- .Xjsa-t the eminent KngUsh ptctare-dealers fust 'tsvsVaw tiaaVatican P***"* he win dtoubtua* •aUnVto aome .rich fcre.' *~- • Jiraslt lt»ateo<rlrtzat. ^at *m JapJaw*** UVT ,4aTa*en« an Antwerp BxiiattxssX a. Skull. One night, about an nour before the curtain rose: on the first act of "Hamlet," the astounding dis- covery was made by tbe property-man tbat there was no such a thing as a akall of "Poor Torlck." When the tact was announced to Mr. Talbot, wbo was masticating a mutton-chop at the O street res- taurant, be upsetadleb of tomatoes and broke a tea-cup in bringing down bis list upon the table, with tbe exclamation: "Kill a Ohlnaman and nave his skull cleaned and dried by 9.80." A. council was held, and It was the opinion orthe Eroperty-man that It. would be next to Impossible > kiU a Celestial and have his skull ready by 9,80. Besides this, several persons about town who had been Interviewed In reference to the job refused to kfjl a Chinaman for less than t7.M, and one ex- orbitant and mercenary scoundrel wouldn't look at anything less than J12. hall of which he wanted In advance. CoL Bob Taylor, the eminent STiskeev 1 delineator, was sent for and asked for the that my cousin's-nmarks monopolized All ray span time? Turning tbe suggestion of my wife's Identity with the dsoclng.glrl over and over In tnv mind, I waa met at the outset with one startllog diScnlty. Wbo was I-sdy Fatima MoUnenx before, ahe married the wild Irish baronet f This difficulty waa not to be easily overcome. It was a matter or salon-rumor In Paris that her ladyship's origin nnd antecedents were as .obscure aa Mrlcblsedec's. After all, by some ma- lignant, fate, had the-acapegnee baronet met and married the woman who as a girl had figured as my Airy-Filry Vers? My memory went back to tbat.night I dwelt on tbe dancing, on tbe broken necklace, on tbe crescent tbatVboanded off the stage anaVnid itself Inside my vest..v Airy Fsirv Tent's arms were bare to the shoul- der that evening. How was It that I had not noticed tbe tatooed letters J. y., seen by my cousin f. Had tbe letters been pricked into tbe ahbubger. Id the In-, terval tbat euujsed between myseefne her and Emma's; seeingherf This was hardly probable.- :'<" Those -versed In tbe science of the rjlnd Inform us that.uuMt people may bare by practice, .aod tbat some people poaaeasi the faculty without It; of retaining a mere retinal picture "A scene ls'flashed upon the eye; tbe memory of it persurts,.and details which es- caped observation daring the brief time when It was actually eeen"mey be analysed and studied at leisure ■in tbe subsequent vision." Following this bint, I recalled, the reHr/el -picture of Airy Fairy Tere, and subjected It to this critical anal- ysis. I remembered tbat then was a bow of rnse-pink .ribbon on each shoulder, the long-ends-of which flashed and wand. Ah. I remembered that position; with her heel high up In the air and her body bent down close tp the footlights!. I had seen the taint bias tstoolag, bat I bad not identified the letters. By the time I had arrived at this conviction, it was time for us to return te our hotel. When I retired, I pat . pair of email aelssun under my pfllnw. - We always kept a nlght-Ugbt burning. - My wife had taken several glaasea of wine, and her breathing aoon told me she was sound asleep. Her face was turned from me, and her left shoulder was > uppermost With trembllog fingers 1 grasped the eelasors> It was neces- sary, abore all things, to be calm. "Now' for It I" I ent-the alee re of ber nlgb't-robe. and exposed tho lovely, rounded, marble-tooklng arm. The faint bine Indian-ink tatoolag came gradually into view as tbe scisaon eat tbrongb tbe mnsUn. Myeooaln was right! There wen tbe letten J. F. I My wire slept on aa sonndly and sweetir as a chJTd.' I lay down beside her to think, and the Oentaa of Good and the Genius of EvU fouiht their barUe rn my perturbed soul. My better geolua argued that my wife was no worse for.beins: the developed original of any Alrr Fslry Tere- Then- waa no necessity for resurrecting the memories and possible vexations of tbe dead Past. My Evil Genloa resented.the alliance. 'I bad been made the victim of an impostor. . It waa due to me that'abe should be hemulated, and to'be forced to e spi esa con- trition for the decant aba had practiced. My-EvTl Oemloa prevailed, and I Ml asleep. To make mattes waifJMmuuv,breagbt me -thnfktal crescent before breaHsTHaxtspBalng. " : "Shosr ber.that. and yon wiTPieel'' ahe asrJd,-wHh £ true wcrsmn's lnstlcet fox mischief. - 1 did enowUto' ~ I am not timid or nervous as a rule, and a thor- ough unbeliever In ghosts; and yet, aa I looked at the room I waa to occupy on tbat—to me—never-to- be-forgotten nlgbt I could not help thlnklnir that If any spirit, friendly or otherwise, wished to pay me a nocturnal visit, It could scarcely find a belter opportunity. It was a spaclons, old-fashioned, un- comfortable-looking room, filled with dark, dingy, useless furniture. But mv attention was ohlefly directed to> tbe bed, which' stood In the middle of the room, and was hung all ronnd wltb heavy cur- tainB, wblcb, "once upon a time." I have no donbt were rich and rare, but now looked as If "tbe light of other days" bad been remarkably successful In the fading process. The first thing I did was to pull them ail op. except two. wblcb I left down, as there Teas' no other backing to the bedstead. It was with a fteUng or relief tbat I left the room and descended tbe stairs with, perhaps, a iltUe more alacrity tban usual to Join my peonle at sup- per. Bnt In that rapid descent I formed a firm resolve to detain tbat supper till the "witching hour'.' bad passed. - .1 wui not. dwell on the feeble attempts I made to. be fonny and amuse my faraUy; I don't know who waa to blame, but I felt I was not so meotesful as I wished to be. or my family —owing,, perhaps, to a long, fatiguing Journev—was less appreciative than usual. My rayety was forced and my Jokes were execrable—so bad that tbey called forth a gentle reproof from my too Indulgent mother; such as: "Uy Mar; you are talking too much, and not eatlng,"«r "Yon look tired;.don't you think you bad better go to bedf" The last remark only stimulated ms to fresh exertions; but. In spite of tbe xbeenul sub- jects I tried to start, tbe conversation wonld turn ongbbets-l My brother told a.tbrUUngstory,and my sister recounted a nightmare she had once had. as she knew I had never bad one. I'm afraid I did not paavas' much attention to the recital as I onght to bavfinone (I had beard it before); but what did impress-me was wben ahe anld "It was moat real- istic" and felt she "wanted to scream and conld not." I looked at the. clock; there was still another quarter I .Which sbonlil I do: own to a nameless fear..end stand-my brother and sister's rallrerr on oc*zarrstca?'cr-—..A 1 nock; It was the-lady lnfrtarge-ol the" «onrer-we had taken it for a k; snewanted to know If we bad all we re- qnlred, aa ahe had sent the servants to bed, bnt she would I e most happy herself toget anythlngforns. I saw at a glance she was a woman not at all averse to talking, and I determined she should In-' dulgeTln that little propensity for at least a quarter of an hour. I asked her to sit down, in spite of tbe basty ntrent of my brother and the warning looks or mvunotber. I Inquired, with much apparent lntereftTtbe state ot her health—of course I was grleveVto hear that ahe was far from well. She was sura there was going to be a thunder-storm. She felt tbat nervous and restless—It always affect- ed her so—she was that frightened of them. I dnly sympathized with her, and told her I was a fellow- sufrerer. My mother and sister looked the surprise tbey felt at my silent endurance for so many years. But I bad gained my object; tbe dreaded hear had passed; and I was now aa anxious to retire as any- one. For the flrat time in my memory I burnt a nlght- llght; It gave a feeble glimmer, and only seemed to make the darkness visible. But I was too sleepy to take much notice of anything. After securing the door by a bolt, pulling up tbe blind, and open- ing the window at the fooUH my bedBto give a little more light and air, it waa not long Ombre i fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep. How Jons; It lasted I am not quite sore; but I awoke with astart-i-tbere was a flash of lightning and a peal of thunder; so I at- tributed the canse or my wakefulness to tbat. Glancing round the room, my eyea were suddenly riveted on the door. Could I be mistaken T No: tbe door I bad firmly bolted was open I and a black, shapeless ngure wss slowly coming towards mel I trembled In every, limb; my forehead waa dank, and mv lips twitched nervously. I pressed my hands tightly over my heart to try and lesson Its beating; bnt in sU the wild confusion of blending and blurring of light and darkness, the rolling and crashing of thunder, my eyes never moved from that unearthly form, as It glided noiselessly along and stopped at the foot of my bed. I felt Its eyes were upon mel And as It stood, with upraised arms, as It Invoking a blessing or a enrse. there came another flash and a terrific peal of thunder, which seemed to ahake tbe very foundation of the bouse. I closed my eye*. A chill crept over me. My blood seemed freezing to my veins I Then all was still—even my heart ceased its tumultuous beating In tbat awful calm. The suspense was too mnch to bear, and I had to look again. There was an- other flash, and I gazed ronnd the room; tbe figure hsd disappeared. Then, quick as that flash, came the thought tbat I bad got a nightmare, brought on, no doubt, by mv sister's account ol hers. I closed my eir^ again with a feeling of relief, and drew tbe cie>aes over my head. I could not see or hear anythln/i* bnt I feu Intuitively the cur- tains at tbe back of my bed were' being opened I It was not imagination now; tbe clothes were be- ing slowly removed from my faoe, and the black figure was bending over me 1 Mr agony at that moment ls beyond description. I tried to;scream or move; bnt I bad lost aU con- trol of voice and limb;, a cold, deathlike feeUng came over me; and when my pillow moved, and I felt I was being Ufted up. my already overtaxea nerves gave way, and, for the first time In my life, I minted. "isXTTiai: Dorothy." BT OUl RB IP TBLL. CHAPTER L Twas only a montb to Christmas-day, and It hardly needed a glance at the almanac to note this fact. That Christmas wss close at hand conld be seen plainly enough In the thousands of glittering ahop-wlndowa, the annuals In the booksellers 1 shops, and the many huge and flaming announce ments of forthcoming pantomimes on tbe various hoardings. The stalls In the vartoas market thoroughfares, with their loads ol rosy-looking holly. Ivy and mistletoe, showed that the great fes- ' tlval was rapidly approaching. At this season the faces of young and old aUke invariably bear traces of happiness and'JolUty; bnt nevertheless there are many to whom the approach of Winter means trouble and want But I must proceed with my story. In the top room of a strange-looking struc- ture, which was called a house, and which house waa situated In a small and by no means lnvitln;;- 100ting thoronghfare In the East-end of London, a woman lay dying, Tbe neighbors had for wieks expected ber death. In fact, it waa a common sav- 'lug among them tbat" Old Peg' would never die." But this night tbe parish doctor bad given bis Opinion that "Old Peg could not live much longer," and, aa If by arrangement, tbe uncouth Inhabit- ants of this place stopped their noises, which, as a general rule, were very loud Indeed. Who "Old Peg" really was, and how she obtained her Uvtng, the neighbors did not know nor care. The only day she waa known to leave her bouse when In good health was on Saturday, and then she was only gone a conple ofbours. Since she had been laid up a letter arrived regularly on that day. a letter which "Old Peg" would snatch at as if It were something too precious for anyone bnt herself to look upon. And what waa this lettert Wat U a letterf well, hardly that. It was an ordinary "square" envel- lope sealed with black wax, and the Inelosnre was a check upon which was written In a bold, feminine band (after "pay to"), "Mrs. Woolt, two pounds. (Signed) Annie Bkbblow." This waa alL - "OldPeg"wasdylngnow,andnoonewaspresent but the parish doctor and an old woman to watch her. Bnt, standing by the rickety apology for a bed was a little girl of about nine years of age. This was "Old Peg's" ward, known aa "Little Dorothy." A fine, dark-eyed, handsome girl was "Little Doro- thy," and much beloved by the lew to whom "Old Peg" had Introduced ber. who ber parents were was a mystery. When "Old Peg" was ssked, she simply shook ber bead and aald: "Aye, time will show, time will show l" "Little Dorothy" loved "Old Peg." for she had been very kind to ber, but the old woman had told ber time after time that she was not related to her. Still, she had never told Dorothy who she was. Dorothy had not stood at tbe bedside very long be- fore the old woman beckoned to her. Dorothy ap- proached tbe bedside. "Dorothy," said the old woman feebly, as she Jreesed tbe Utile band within her own, "Dorothy, 'm going to Join the old man. He went long ago, you know, and bas been waiting for me." Dorothy did not reply. She was too much af- fected. "Don't cry, Dorothy," reBuraed tho old woman after a pause. "I've something to tell you. Some- thing which ls Hush! Is tbat a footstep t No I Ah her footstep 1b a long time coming—a long, long time l She told me tbat one day ebe would claim you: not that / grumble, for she paid me welL Always. She " 'To whom do you refer, my good woman t" asked the doctor. "Yon see, the child ls anxious to hear you say the name. Give me water, qnlck 1" he added to tbe old woman who assisted blm. The water was procured, but be failed to get "Old Peg' to drink It. Her eyes were fixed Intently upon Dorothy, and her band, which was closed, wss stretched towards the poor child. Then suddenly It dropped to her side, and with a deep sign, a sigh which spoke volumes, "Old Peg" died. With ber last breath her band opened, and there dropped to the floor a small bag. a bag which no doubt waa originally In- tended to hold a small watob. Tbe doctor picked H up, opened It, and took from It a small and elab- orately-chased locket. This, after a Utile examin- ation, he opened, and, after a moment's great at- tention, he banded It to Dorothy. It contained the portrait of a young and very beautiful woman, clad In a splendid dress. It was evidently the por- trait or an actress. "Here, my chUd," said the doctor, "take this, and do not part with It lor any consideration; for, aa Bare as I am a doctor, so sure am I that that ls the portrait of your mother t» " Poor little Dorothy t The day after her ac ciden t saw her lying upon her Utile bed in Market street, Sobo. She bad severely Injured her head, and was delirious. The doctor bad said, after attending to ber Injuries, that aU she required was rest and quietness, Mrs. Davis loved the chlM-lovedher like one of her own-and many a tear she shed aa she sat by Dorothy's bedside and listened to the mutterlngB ol the little sufferer. Sometimes Dor °STwould Say: "Isnt It beautiful 1 And he said (the smge-manager) tbat some day I should be a great actress." Then she would aay: "Old Peg told me that my mother was an actress. A orevrt actress, she said. Wny didnt she take me on the stager Ah. sbe'U never claim little Dorothy. Peg sain she wonld. Yes, she said that some day she would come In a grand <»JTlage and take me away, and I should be a lady; but Idont beUeve Peg n Thus Dorothy muttered the whole day long. Towards evening Mr. Davis left home for the the- atre. Mrs. Davis bad put her children to bed, and. Erocurlng ber knitting, had seated herself by orotby's bedside. Suddenly a vehicle stopped In front of tbe bouse, end on Mrs. Davis looking from the window she was somewhat startled to behold a carriage, attached to which were a splendid pair of grays, anda coachman and a footman in livery. The footman Jumped down and knocked at the door. Mrs. Davis In a great hurry opened it. "MnDavlBt" asked the footman. • "Yes" replied Mrs. Davis, her heart beating wildly, "tbat Is my name," • "Lady Fullar desires to speak with you. please. And then Mrs. Davis recoUected that herhnsbana had said It waa Lord Fullar wbo bad given blm two sovereigns. She approached the carnage-win dow. "lathe poor child better, ma'am t" asked Lady Foliar, "Yes, my lady, and thank you," replied Mrs. Davis, with a curtsy. "She ls ra'ber delirious, my lady; bnt she only wants rest, the doctor says. Would your ladyship like to see berr" •Very much. If It will not Inconvenience von." Not at all, my lady." "WIU you accompany me, my lordT" asked Lady Foliar of her husband. "With pleasure." be repued. Lord FuJiar took as muct Interest In the stsge and those wbo bad to ido with it as dlsVfcfa wife. ■ _ "Poor Utile thing," aald Lady Fullar as she stood jby Dorothy's bedside. "Is this your eldest, Mrs. Davie f" . "Ob, no. my lady. She ls not my cbUd. We have had ber for some time, for her gnardlan died and left her wlthont friends. Her birth is a mystery, mv lady, so my husband says." Lady Fullar was much affected, and she saw that ber husband noticed It. "This, my lady." said Mrs. Davis, as she took a small bag from Dorothy's bosom, "Is gnpposed to be the mother ol Dorothy. Yon can open It, my lady." Lady Fullar. trembling In-every Umb. took the bag. opened It, and took out an elegantly-chased gold locket This she opened, and then a piercing shriek burst from ber lips, as, flinging herseU on ber knees by the bedside, she cried wildly: "Oh Ood I something told me O Edward, forgive me—forgive me 1" "What—what, Auulef Speak I" cried Lord Fullar, startled beyond description. "This, my lord," replied Lady Annie, aa she clasped Dorothy in her arms, "ls my child I" Lord Fuller stood Uke a statue. Her child Surely ebe had not suddenly gone madT No, it did not seem so. "My noor cbUd," cried Lady Fullar. as she held Dorothy close to her breast, "my poor, Ill-used child; and yet I did it all for tbe best." Dorothy bad recovered consciousness, and for one moment she looked hard at the ladv who held her and who wept so bitterly over her; then she murmured, as ber Utile arms wonnd about Lady FuUar's neck: "Old Peg told me so. She said some day a lady with a beautiful dress Uke yours wonld come here and tako me away In a grand carriage. It was my mother that Peg meant; are you my mother, lady t" "Yes. yes, my child," cried Lady Fullar. pas- sionately kissing the large block eyes wblcb looked so pleadingly up at her. "I am Indeed your own mother 1" Gently she disengaged the little arms, and, standing erect, looked at Lord Fullar. Tbst gen tieman seemed perfectly bewildered. He was at loss to make It all out. "Edward." said Lady FuUaf, unmindful of tbe presence of Mrs. Davis (wbo waa very much cut up), "Edward, do not look at me Uke that, I know I am a sinful woman—sinful because I dtd not tell you all. But, If you wUl let me do so, I am sure you wUl pity me." "I should certainly like to hear what explanation you can give me. Lady Fullar." repUed Lord Ed- ward in cold tones. "I think I have been made victim. WUl you retire now. Lady FuUarf' "Yes, yes." Then, turning to Mrs. Davis, she said: "To-morrow, Mrs. Davis. I will call and claim my cbUd. Good-bye. my child, tiu then—good-bye I And Heaven Mess you, Mrs. Davis, for your care- But one moment: how long has this child Dean in your charge 1" tbat by paying W cents down and 26 eenta per week until paid up." - "No use, stranger." replied the man; "there haint nothing to do. money la tight, and— I've wandered this wide wuld All over." I wish you wonld cease that fiddling and sing, lng for a moment, and let me talk to yon," said tbe agent. 'Bibuis la an right, you la all right, and— Oh I thU world h> sad and dnerr, Bverywhere I roam t" 'Won't you atop for Just one moment!" •I'd Uke to oblige, but now.'s my reglar One (or Addling and singing, and—. op in a aeflcsa. beys. Cp In a rsflsa rsi ^ Then 1 cant sen you a BtNe V Joan of tbe skull of an old pioneer, which bad re- , „_„ _„ . „ . _.. . , , cent!/ been present*] to the society. The Colonel 1 aid show tt to hae. .-fl» waa almost e&nesVUrVd'e- aorne rich ftreigner for a big amount. I rushed np ta-tbe cabinet, but Bond It looked, and, 1 Ughiea at it* recovery, she kissed it repeetefty!: rSs^di^aXi^r:^ : I while the pp^leajvnat ine a^lnnfng Ijesdpisce "My twor father "a gift I My pc«r faUreW^asrrkT'- ■ ofbtonose, My-poor fathers gift I My poor t Ws*' fcjgl" aha art ad.. "Jsw there ,f. P.l-my. ftg{j| ' CHAPTER IL. . Wben'"Old Peg" was laid In her grave, the In- habitants of tbe alley in which tor so many years she had lived were somewhat at a loss what to do. She had no relatives, and to whom was Dorothy to got They were puzzled for some time, but the landlady or the house, after receiving advice, sold off what furniture "Old Peg's" room contained and Dorothy was taken charge of by a benevolent woman on the opposite side—a Mra. Davis—a woman who had Blx children or her own. Now the husband of Mrs. Davis was a stage-carpenter, and was employed at the Royal London Theatre. An honest, hard-working man was Davis, and good- hearted in the bargain. He It was who decided that Dorothy was to make one of bis family. "Poor creature," he bad said to bis wife, "who could see soch a little Innocent mite cast upon the streets f I can't, and I won't;" and his wife hsd seconded him. A year passed away, and Christmas was again approaching. Davis had had a hard struggle, for buelnesB had not been very bright, yet Dorothy had shared as well aa his own children. One night be came borne In a hurry. "I aay, Alice," he said to bis wife, "where Is Dorothy f" - "Upstairs; wnyr" "why I've got hex engaged." "Engagedr WhereT Wb-'aar" "Walt a moment. I've .aken to Mr. Stokes, ?ou know, the stage-man/ jr; and she ls to go on n the pantomime?' "Oh, Indeed, I'm so glad. Wben Is she to go f" "At once. Late rehearsal to-night, and the man- ager wants to see her. They are snort of children.' And co Dorothy was brought down, attired In the wannest things Mrs. Davis could find, and left the honse on the road to take part In her first pan- tomime. * In the magnificent drawing-room of a very fine honse, not very far from Park Lane, an elegant lady was seated before a piano. A beautiful wo- man she was, with large blaok eyes, features which seemed cut from solid marble by the hand ol a master-sculptor, and colls of shining black balr. It was Lady Annie Foliar. For some considerable time she aat before the instrument; her hands were resting upon the keys, and ber eyes appeared to be fixed Intently upon tbe music before ber. Bnt ber thoughts were far away. Suddenly the door opened, and a gentleman entered. This was Lord Fullar. '•Well, my dear," he said as he entered, "I bave been waiting a long time for you to commence. You are thoughtful, as usual." "Am I thoughtful f WcU, what shall I play t" "Flay f Anything. Play one of those beautiful songs with which yon used to startle ail London. Wnen yon were an actress, Annie, yon were al- ways ready to slug; since you nave retired from that busy life vou seem indifferent about singing, and yet you know how I love to hear your beauti- ful voice." Lady Annie made no reply, but, arranging ber music, ahe sang two of ber songs, and then stopped as if weary. "My dear," said Lord Foliar, "I hear a great deal about the new pantomime at the Royal Lon- don. Would you Uke to go f" "Ob, yes, very mnch." "Then yon shall, and this evening." . And very soon Lord Foliar was on his way to • procure the necessary tickets. Directly he nad I wss awakened: with a hand at my door, and . ——» , . , —- Get up, lazy,". Irrmr'my-brother. "I'd back you < left the room. Lady Annie rose and approached the against tbe Seven keepers any day." He also In formed me tnatereryone in the bonse was hoarse wltb calling me; and that be thought be should have to take a box of bronchial troches himself. I told Mm to eaU my mother. .There waa some- thing in my voice tbat startled him, lor ne went at .once. I hardly knew it myself, bnt I bad caught Wtrtof the bolt; tt was fastened as I had left It I Hearing- my mother coming up the stairs, with trembling bands I drew It back. She waa shocked at seeing my pallid face, I told her I had bad a sleepless night, and tbat I did not feel very wen. She told me to remain in bed, and sent for a enp ot tea. Mrs. M— brought It up herself. As she entered the room she said: "Poor dear, you do look bad; but It's only what I expected after last night; and sure, wben I looked at you, I thought you were dead—with your eyes wide open, and your faoe as white as the pillow I" I looked at her. I was trpeeehleas- with as- tonishment; and it was not until I beard ber aay to. my mother: "Is she subjeet to 11 tat" that I an01 clanUy recovered to ask: "Did you come into, my-room last nightr" Oh I the re- lief wben her answer came: "Yes, my dear. I heard how trlghtehed yon were of thunder, and when that storm came on I felt more nervous for Son than I did for myself, and so-I told my nns- and. He advised me to come and sec how yon were: and Pm glad I did, for you were lying on your back, with your Ikoe covered over—which Is unhealthy. I soon removed tha clothes, and I shall never forget'the tarn you gave me. Yonr eyes were wide open, and you aeemed gasping for breath, so I supped my bands under the pillow and ralaedyon up. Tbe sigh of relief yon gave wben I tamed yon round Into a more comfortable posi- tion did my heart good. You closed your eyes, and went to Bleep as peaceful as an angeL" I conld scarcely believe ber, and asked ber what ahe had on.- She said she hast slipped on her waterproof, and put the hood over her bead; and that she bad tried to pull down the curtains at the foot of my bed, bnt-tbey were aboverher reaoh. I-was not'yet.qBlns convinced, §o I asked her how she )zot In to my room, as 7 bad bolted (he door. .. she then BboWa dxa e the eaten; It was loose, and my boiling nitrite* .- Explanations sftoar toUowad. to my entire satla- facts'in. I Was duirpttled and petted, and by none -more earnesTtly thaatry Oboac ■ . s fm sunoke it too loasV ' AT too i ^Taarn<won^twzrvaB^jrjMbut cook. window, where for some time she stood looking upon tbe busy streets, "The Royal London " she muttered, "yea, I should Uke to go to the Royal London. It is a long time since I went there. The last time I stood, upon the stage, the principal actress. And It was there ttat—pshaw I what am I thinking about, wha t am I t hinking about t r OHAFTER HI. The pantomime at tbe Royal London was a great success, and It deserved to be. No expense had been spared lb placing It upon the stage; everyone agreed that tbe scenery was really magnificent, and the acting all that conld possibly be desired. AU London was flocking to see it, and every night the various doors of the theatre bore the cards, "Stalls ruu," "Pit full," and so on. There had been upwards of two hundred children engaged, and among them little Dorothy. The stage-manager had been struck by her appearance, and had placed her In the front row. In the transformation scene she occupied the principal flower, which, gradually unfolding, displayed her pretty features. She was at a good height from the floor, bnt abe conld be seen plainly enough. The night of the visit of Lord and Lady Fullar was a benefit night, and the house was crowded from floor to celling with an appreciative audience; Lord and Lady Fullar occupied a box near the stage. The performance proceeded' wlthont hi ten, and Lady Fullar waa delighted. She waa _ very competent Jndgo, bnt she found no fault wltb Anything. At length came the trans(brmatian scene, a scene of real splendor, and one which caused Lady Fuller to clap her Utile bands with delight Suddenly Lord Fullar, who had been attentively watching the progress of the scene turned to his Wife and aald: "I say. Annie, Just look at .that .opUd here—there, in that flower, do you see her r* Lady Fullar looked hard' at Utile Dorothy: then she said: .......... '•Yea, I see her; a beantlful Utile creature. Is she notr Tbey are good at —t— Ah I" ene exclaimed as she started up; ■'what bas happenedT . Lady Fullar was not tbe only one who cried out and rose from her seat; her movement had been foUowed by the whole bouse, lor tbe platform which held little Dorothy bad given way and precipitated the poor child to tbe floor. . Several persons rushed forward, and Dorothy, Insensible and bleeding from a wound In her fore- bead, was taken awav. The manager after, a tow momenta came forward and said be was glad to say the child was not aerlously injured. The play of.oeaDie..Qbntinned. • -mmwH^v aald Lady Annie, directly the —■ •-■- ■ and — ~~ rtnaorretlred, ^ust go see how out poor "Over twelve months, my ladv.' We took her directly Old Peg died, and removed from the East- ^JJ , end to thtaplace." _/-fW scarcely more than "Ah. then. It was no wonder I conld not Und her and yet day after day l tried to seek ber ont, Bnt to-morrow I wUl call for ber." "Don't look as If you could, tor— I-ve wandered through toe village. Tans, rn sat beneath tbe tree." And the canvasser left the house in despair. eioiia; W BIIIBJ VOX T HB wgW TOBX CMIFBB. Whence comes tha mjstte flower* Whence Is tbe magic f onrr , • Whence the nft-seepteseslpuasu Ol conquered Lovef Rises divine It not- i ■ nbemfU earn bine It not; Tbongb TJa a finite knot, . >TIs tied above. Levi's birth no table Is, Mortal not able la, Katlber can aabl* Dta Furnish saeh flame; Onet* bore It ben. Bobus. Co story dear. Koowtng no mot* a Batr r Maple-red earns Unto tbe Adamtuj Vaster and madam watte— Innocence clad 'em light— Ooold came too rEepbyrua carried hlmX sbnwed tbem tbe pafmrrnrm When Psyche married him— So let ua do I . at 0. SCENE-PAINTING. Theatrical scenery Is painted In •■distemper," abe dry color being mixed with a vehicle cesslstlng of glue and water, much the same as is used with whiting for calclmlnlng rooms. Brago-so eneij aca drop-curtains are never, painted In.'oO-colors. While the color ls less brilliant.than when mixed with oils (the artist bang- eompeDud to get his brilliancy by skillful arrangement of dun color), the glare of varnish and oU Is avoided, which would destroy the realism of tbe scene. Scenery, then, being painted In water-colors, the danger from Are la much lees than Is popularly supposed—tn fact, when It does take Are It burns very slowly lor a long time. Tbe canvas ls much leas combustible than before.belng painted. Scenes painted on both sides are almost flre-prooL ' The qualities required of a first-class scenic- art I at are of a mucb higher order than ls generally supposed, and the technical difficulties to be over- come to produce any brilliant effect wtiatnrr for tbe stage are so numerous that, with a thorough knowledge of drawing, color and composition, and the clearest possible Idea on the part of tbe artist of what he desires to do, he will fan utterly, with- out great practice, to convey to tbe audience the effect tbat he may bave already In his brain ar- ranged In tbe clearest and most tangible shape. The artist In oil-colors can produce any effect which bis mind conceives. The scenic-artist must first overcome many very great obstacles. One of the chief difficulties arises from the tact that toe colors dry ont several stades lighter than they arc when applied. (Throw ■ Utile water on tbe floor, and the difference In color will illustrate this difficulty.) The artist is compelled to paint with one color while thinking of another. He most think -Irith every brush-mark how the colors will "dry out." The dlnTouTty in doing this can be Imagined wben it ts considered tbat all exterior scenes are painted from a pallet making a constant obange of tbouwnda of different tints. Then the effector a nlght-Ugbt Is a serious drawback. Who- ever bas observed tbe changes In the colors of fabrics from tbe light of day to the artificial Ugot of gas most bave noticed bow some colors are heightened and others dimmed by being brought under the yellow gaslight. . - - Tbe scene-painter working In the broad glare or day must consider wltb every brush-mark tbe ef- fect of thla gaslight on his color. A brtntant effect by daylight may under an artificial light be en- tirely destroyed, and also tbe lenyjise holds true; but that must not be accidentwlth the scenic-art- ist Do the audience In the theatre ever realize the immense difficulty of painting a scene while with- in three or, at most, four feet from, tbe canvas, to produce the proper effect at a dstanca of from fifty to 1(0 Met, tbe artist being compelled to see his work In his mind's eye at this dlsunce. wben his flrat opportunity to see his rnttre work Is after it has been finished and on the st get The result -of constant practice in this direction ls that, at be acquires knowledge, end consequently power and decision, he gradually chooses larger brushes, until toe skillful artist is enabled with the ronjrhest and apparently most hideous "swashes" of the calolmlnlng brush to produce effects aa soft, ten- der and 1UU ot appropriate meaning aa Is dona by the most labored, painstaking care on smaller sur- faces by many landscape-painters. In scene-paint lug, as In an other art. It Is only the novice woo takes the life ont of bis work by petty, contempt- ible smoofhlng-down with small brushes, "Pic- tures are made to be seen, not smelled," said Rey- nolds. In decorative painting mechanical finish Is tbe Important requisite, but In seene-palnting It a \ no more an excellence than Is mechanical finish . ■ In any other art. (,.-, The popular impression ls that, because scenes , are thus painted with broad, bold, rough marks; ft ts' scarcely more tban a grade or so advanced _J beyonfl. mere decorative painting; bnr Hilar fori moment or tbe knowledge or drawing, perspective, cHjLpnim it. During the journey from Market street. Bono, to tbelr own grand residence, Lord and Lady Foliar uttered not one word. Lord FuUar's spirits bad received a damping which he never expected. Yet Lady FuUar was glad he did not question her on the jonrney borne: ahe was too mnoh occupied with her own thoughts. She had wished to keep her secret—her only secret—forever. And vet ehe was glad tbat she was now to divulge It, for she wss never easy. "Now. my lady," said Lord Fullar. when they were once more at home, "kindly clear up this great mystery." "I will. Edward. I will. You wlU promise to listen patiently to met" "Yes, I promise that, but """■■"ff else." "Edward, many years ago, long before you knew me, I was performing at the various London the- atres. At that time I bad a great name, and was admired by ail. I bad many suitors for my band, but my whole heart and soul were wrapt np In my profession, and I rejected all of them. But a woman's heart cannot remain whole forever. While performing at the Royal London Theatre I became acquainted with a gentleman named Val- entine. And 1 met him on many occasions at various parties. He wss, he said—and It was be- lieved by all—the son of a elty banker. He waa young and handsome; and I must confega, my lord, I lost my heart. He asked me to be bis wife. I consented; and unknown to a soul In thla country we were married In Paris. In my box ls tbe certificate os* my marriage. Time passed on. I completed several engagements in France and In Germany: but, alas t I non Aund tbat my husband was not the man he had represented himself to.be. I found blm an adventurer, and not only that, bnt a gambler. He squandered aU my hard- earned money, and Ul-nsed me In a shameful manner. My ohUd was born; Dorothy she la call- ed, but ber real name ls Annie. After that my hus- band treated mo worse tban ever. But at last he met hla deserts, for he was shot In a quarrel in one of the gamhUng-aaloons in Paris, and In Parts he was burled. Ah, my lord, I cannot tell van the trials and struggles I went through. I returned to this country and placed the child In the can Ot a woman In toe east of London, and titer once more returned to the stage. Soon after I became ac- quainted with you, my lord; yon loved me, and Boon I learned to love yon. Yon offered me mar- riage; I accepted It. But no one here knew that I bad previously married, or that I bad a child. What was I to do r I thought and thought over It, until sometimes I seemed to be going mad. I de- cided to keep the secret, and with yon to partake ot that happiness which for so long had been de- nied to me. Tbat ls all • I have to tell you, Edward —ail. Ob, say tbat you forgive me—do not turn me away from you—for Heaven knows I love you, Edward, with an my beart and soul t» 1 Lady Fullar had approached her husband and had cast herself upon her knees before him, her bands*' raised In supplication. "Rise, Annie," said Lord Fullar, taking her In his arms and clasping her to bis breast; "rise, my dear wire. I do pity you. Ood knows I do. My love shall never leave yon. Yonr cbUd shall be mine, my borne hers. God bless both you and berl" What "Old Peg" bad told Dorothy time after time really came to pass, for tbe day after Lady Fullar had called Lord FnDar drove np. ac- companied by an eminent physician. That gen- tieman certified that Dorothy conld be removed, Ruga were procured from the carriage, and the Utile child waa taken away to her grand home. Lord Fullar It was who proudly carried her to her mother, and, aa he placed ber In her ready arms, be said: "There, -Annie, tbe one black spotin your life is now removed. I am sure' we shall ah be very bappy; and no one will I strive to make more happy than this onr pretty child, Little Dorothy.'' A BIBLE CAHVAStst yS TA U WITH \ FIDfllEI, A Bible canvasser called Into a bouse to see If he couldn't sell a book. A small girl opened the door in answer to bis knock; and Just as he enter- ed a man sitting on the edge of a forlorn-looking bed raised a fiddle to his shoulder, and conunenced scraping ont a tune. "Have you a Bible In the bouse t" asked the can- vasser, as he crossed the room. "Nary Bible." answered the man; "and— Old Dan Tucker Draazut a dream I" "Or a hymn-book t" continued the canvasser. "No, nary; and— 7.i roa love me. MolUe darling. Let your answer be a kiss." "I am agent for the sale of thla Bible," said tbe canvasser, taking the volume out of bla satcheL "Couldn't buy one cover, and— O darkles, bow mr-heart grawa weary. Sla-hiog fur the old folks at ham a." "I can seUyou the book for a amaU amount down, and the balance In weekly payments. A great many " "Bibule are all right, but I've got a sore foot, and— Twas a calm, still nlzbt. And tna mooa's pale UcbL." "If yon do not care to read the book yourself, you should not refuse yonr child permission," marked the canvasser. "And (he old woman la upstairs, sick with Bayer, and— Tbey took ber off to Georgia TotoUoerUAiaw.sr." "But It seems bard to think that you are per- mitting yourself and family toltva In ignorance of religious-—" "Btbuia is an right tad rd ejuxiurage 'em if tima w-asmnavoblaetod— Hal hal hal na and ana. .. Little brown jcur. oXmafkne thae." "I hays a smaller cxtmon like this. Ton can save composition and color rewolred to enable the art- ist to produce on these large surfaces a scene which to the audience must be realism, when he can/only see at any time a limited portion (say tetf feet square) of bis work—on a "drop" say thirty reel by fifty—while working within three feet of bis canvas, and to be seen across a large theatre. The fact ib that a scenic-artist Is able to paint a small picture with much greater ease and readiness than he can hla theatrical work, because be bas the knowledge required to paint tbe small snbject wlthont the very great obstacles attending bis work on the huge canvas. Another thing to be considered la. this: Tbe scenic-artist does not always bave—in faot, sel- dom bas—tbe leisure to do work at his best. He baa neither the time nor the opportunity to correct his work. Wben a picture ls finished In an artist's studio tbe artist sees where a change here and there will enhance the value of hla work, and can perfect IL The scene-painter must call hla Work "a go," and start on the next scene. "We press your bat wbUe you wait," Is 'be sentiment, The manager comes to the artist and says we want a street—Paris. 1900— lo-niaht. HemnsthaveltfJara. tbongb the heavens falL "Tune, tide and man- agers wait for no man." Many times In the ex- periences ol ail scenic-painters are they obliged te work thirty-six hours at a stretch, {heir meals brought to them, and stopping for nothing else, each of those hours working against time, with no sentiment other than to get thro ugh, get out of the theatre and to the rest that exhausted nature loadly demands. StlU, he must be criticised on this very work. The audience doesn't know anything about his having worked ail day and aU night and all dav. The great scenic-artists of the world are great artists, and so recognized in the world of art. Poor dead Hlnard Lewis was the very prince of seenlc-artlsta, and his genius waa the wonder and admiration or every artist of every department of art in New York. Yet the theatre-going public wbo for thirty or forty years had admired and ap- plauded bis beautiful work did not know or care to know bis name. The position of scenic-artist in a first-class the- atre la one of great responsibility, which Is prop- erly recognised "behind tbe eurtaln-Une," but tbs general pubUc has no Interest In tbe penonaUtj of the scenic-artist, supposing In a vague sort of wav that the manaotr palnta the scenes. It ls ns unusual thing for scenery to be lavishly commend- ed by the press and pubno, tbe manager receiving great praise for bis "enterprise, taste and liber- ality." while the artist whose brain and band has. created It all ls never mentioned or even thought. oL Bcene-painten, Uke ail other artista, bavt . their aarbttions, and are grateful lor proper and honest appreciation. Muca injustice bas always been done tbem (perhaps through thoughueasnets) by tbe pubtlo press, and this Is strongly felt by every scenic-artist. If the newspaper drama tit critics would take the same Interest In the scene- painters themselves that they do with tbe other in- dividual members or the 'theatrical business, and that tbey do with other artists, and wonld find out under what adverse circumstances thej generally - labor, their sense of Justice would cause them to be mora discriminating in their reports. IT a the- atre during an extended period ls uniformly negu- Knt In the matter of scenic accessories, It wools but simple Justice for the pnbUc critics to in- quire whether It ls due to the Incompetency of the Bcenlc-artlst or to the economy or the managea The truth in this matter can always he esaUjdis- covered, and when blame Is laid, aaltfreqnenuy ls. It should not be done in the loose and Indiscriminate, manner which Injures most tai artist who ls frequently not to blame. If tat dramatic critics would visit and become ac- quainted wltb tbe scenic-artists tbey wonld bt welcomed, and would perhaps gain In the Inures*) ol dramatic art and progress some Ideas fro* that unknown and unthought ot portion ol tnt. theatre (the paint-gallery) that would be a revela- tion to them. The sooner the press and publli recognize the scene-painters as artists, and deal with them Individually aa with other artists— com mending or condemning therm on their ows merits—the better it wlU be for the elevation of scenic-art— Hxnby O. Tbtox, In Chicago Irftt**- Al Km M' Ha VOOMBt, Laferrlere, says a French Journal, has been play- ing "The Poor Idiot" In tbe provinces. Atone small town the stock company was very nemos about playing with the great star, especially a bap- lees woman who waa cast for the mother, and wlta whom Lalerrtere haa the crack scene of tbe piece- It Is In the fifth act. at the moment when the Idiot begins to recognize and distinguish the ueraoDS that surround nlm; then she rushes to Sim, and, folding him In her arms, shrieks: "My son, I am your mother." At every rehearsal Laxerriere encouraged ber. "Dont be nervous-i he wonld say; "keep cool. All you have to dole to cry: 'My son, lam T>m mother,' and embraae me."- - . "Ob, yet; but, M. Lalerrtere, I am so frightened toplaywltnyori."' AD.1 ~— - went weU through the flrat four acts, and dnr- the wait before the fifth .Lafbrriere went to tnt jess' dressing-room to cheer her. Keep up a stiff upper Up," be aald obMrfdnyj "yon know what yon have to do. The whole pw leads., op to tbat scene. L reckon on yo*. son, I am your mother I' and embrace me." a "Yea, yea; 'Mr son, I am. your mother P I shea not forget," The curtain rose. Lalerrlexe waa playing wit* even more than hla furious vigor. The ttrns */wt)ff snd the lady clasps him toner toi*f nm - "Now. then," he whispered errcouraglngly; then, taxing up bis part, yeispd: "Who lai»is womaar Who leaner-' ^* ' "My mother I I am yejurann i» gasped the as* reaa; then aha shrieked. ^J.-'. -