Newspaper Page Text
,ll HAD returned to Paris in search of something- new. A tour of the provinces had somewhat dis heartened ra e, but stall my last franc was not in i*g t, and I thousrht I would he able to add to it materially if I could but find the thin I wanted. Paris did not seem the old Paris I found some of the fine shade trees cut down where the barricades had been erected, and here and there on the walls of the little houses in the Rue Santierre, where I lodged were the marks of bulletsthe scars of the rage of the teriible commune. I wanted a new dramasomething that would fill the house and my pockets as well. Just then this new drima seemed a dream, a vision not to be realized, for some of the finest thing's in that line had failed, and the dramatists were taking- their wares across the channel and even to the United States. I advertised for manuscripts in the pi oper channels and retired to the up per 100ms to wait I knew it would be a long time before I could find just what I needed, and when I thought of the stuff I would be expected to read the useless dialogue and the poor humorI fairly shuddered. My one fnend and confidant, Mon sieur Jadet, a little man with the blackest eyes that ever sparkled, used to climb to my room and walk over to the table and run his hand through the dramas that were accumulating there. "I told you so," he would sa\. "You get enough, but not what you want. It won't come. Faris is still shiver ing over the commune, and it won't come out of the shadow of the barri cades and such until a year has pass ed That one te^roi paralyzed the biam, it has palsied the hand, and no drama, monsieur, no drama' Sacre! Why do we wait for that which can not come?" And then he would walk to the win dow and look out over the city with his face darkly sober We waited for three weeks Day af tei day I picked up a new manuscript, but soon laid it down A dozen lines weie enough. One afternoon when 1 had come in fiom a walk through the denuded boulevards I found my room occupied Pierre, my janitor, hail let my vis itor into the room, and she sat in my chair with her eyes resting half jeal ously upon the pile of 1 ejected dramas on the table I was struck at once with the beau ty of the girl, for girl she was, not past eighteen, with a fiagile but be witching figure and a face almost tiansparent in the sunlight "You are Monsieur she asked, half timidly, showing me two rows of snow white teeth I replied in the affirmative and she seemed to smile again "I am Mile Vivien," she answered, modestly taking from beneath her shawl a little roll of paper at sight of which I seemed to fall back Was it another drama0 ''You have advertised for a drama," she went on "And see! I have bi ought you one 1 took the roll and was about to un tie it when she interposed a hand When I am gone, if you please, monsieur," she said. "I will leave it with you I will comewhen shall I return for your verdict0' Pitting the girl, I told her I had re ceived so many manuscripts and that I feared heis would not be read tor some time, but she said quickly. I will come to-morrow' You will read it to-night It may be better than sttoiling through the streets," and before I could reply she had atisen and was gone. I heard her footsteps on the stair and then lost the sound of them. Half an hour later I was looking up from the manuscript with a startled face. It had come! I felt that I held in my hand the very thing I had sought, and with the drama clutched in my grip I went over to the window and breathed hard, vet joyfully. The drama was called "T^he Coun tess Claire," and I saw at once that the young heroine would captivate the hearts of the fickle Parisians if anything could. The girl who had brought the" drama had left no address and I did not know where to look for her, so all I had to do was to wait. She said she would come the next day. I dared not show the play to Mon sieur Jadet, but resolved to wait till I had made arrangement for its pur chase I would keep the secret all to myself. The next day Vivien came back. Modestly dressed and intellectual in appearance I had taken to her, and wondered if she were not the daugh ter of the playwright "I have examined your drama," said I. "And you like it!" she staited. "I thought you would, monsieur." "It is very good She clasped her thin hands and looked at me "Your father, the playwright "I have no father! I came to Paris, an orphan, from the district of Haute Lorraine. I walked all the way save when I was helped a little by the Prussian soldiers "But the drama? How did you br n along without losing it?" 1 did not fetch it with me mon sieur. It was produced here, but let me have that for my secret, won't you3 It is all the ne I care to possess." "But if I should decide to purchase?" "1 will negotiate," she Answered. "I am Mile. Vivien, and the drama belongs to me." "To you, mademoiselleV She touched her breast and bowed. "To meVivien Noiles," she said. That day Monsieur Jadet went into ecstacies over the purchase, but said dubiously: "Where shall we find a 'Countess Claiie?' It will become a famous character. What about the gh'l who brought the drama?" I could not but start at the inspira tion. "I will see her," I exclaimed "She won't give me he address, but she is to call again.*' Vivien came once more, and I pro posed that she take the title role. Instantly her cheeks flushed, and I knew that I could have made no more desirable proposition "I have had a little training," said the gii'l. "I have played in the prov inces as a child, but She paused and looked away. "The character seems to fit me, don't you think? The countess is young and, what is more, she came from the Haute Lorraine, for you re member what she says of the roses there0" It was settled Vivieu was to be come our "Countess Claire," and forth with we began. Those were delightful rehearsals, and the rest of the cast, with one or two exceptions, took kindly to the fragile girl with the dark skin and deep, lustrous eyes, which Monsieur Jadet insisted talked as fluently as her tripping tongue. One night after the rehearsal, in the midst of a pouring rain, Vivien threw her threadbare cloak over her head and stood waiting for a cab in the doorway. "Shall I go -with you to the Rue She did not let me finish. "To my home? No, no'" and she darted across the sidewalk, sprang into the vehicle, shut the door and was rushed away. The drama progressed amazingly Day after day I saw it nearing its readiness for the stage, and Monsieur Jadet who, with myself, had unlim ited faith in its success, invested all his little wealth in the future. "The girl is mad," suddenly cried the little Frenchman one afternoon as he rushed into my room and threw himself into my chair. "Vivien0" I exclaimed "The Countess Claire," he answered, and then, he pioceeded to narrate a SHE IS BEAD. street incident which he had just witnessed. Jadet said that he was strolling along the Rue Concorde when he saw an officer of the army, a young man in full uniform, struggling with a young girl. Anxious to see more and always chivalrous to defend innocence and beauty, he hastened forward to see the girl disengage herself from the officer's grasp, and before break ing away, deal him several blows with a little whip which brought the blood,for the tiny lash cut like a razor "That for the 12th of July, and this' and this'" she cried, as the blows fell upon the captain's cheek "But the girl*5 cried I "You seem to have me believe that she was the countess0" "It was Vivien, monsieur! Her little arm seemed as strong as steel, but as flexible as whalebone. Sacre! how she struck the officer. He winced at each stroke, and when she ran off he looked and showed his teeth, but did not follow." All this was strange, aye, unac countable to me, I could not under stand it at all That Vivien, the fair girl from the Haute Lorraine, should have a difficulty with a man on the street was past my comprehension and almost beyond belief. "She will explain when she comes," said I. "But the 13th of July, mon sieur?" Jadet shook his head "I don't know," said he. "Then is when they stood the'' commune up against walls and shot it to death But she walked to Paris and the Ger mans helped her," and he shook his head again and looked away. When Vivien came back she was silent as to the occurrence in the street I fore bore to question her, hoping that she would enlighten me of her own ac cord, but she did not. Again we fell to work on the drama, and the night of the first performance drew nigh. But I had made another and an alarming discovery. The girl was wildly ambitious. She was putting her whole soul into the role of the Countess Claire, and I could see that it was taxing her strength. "You must not work so hard," I said to her one day at my table. "You are getting on all right, but you will overtax your powers, and we can't af ford to loose our countess, you see." It was a wan smile that made her features lovlier than ever, and sha drew back with the sunlight falling on her locks which looked more ether eal than ever. "It is a life's ambition, monsieur," said Vivien. "I had coupled it with another ambition, but that one is sat isfiedsatisfied forever. You did not see me? No, I got away eluded the police and" she broke into such a strange, wild laugh that I thought of what Jadet had told me about her mind. i i j This was^the nearest she had come to referring to her altercation with the officer, and I did not press her to tell me more. The thrill of the opening night of "The Countess Claire" remains with me still. I recall the crowded house, the critics come to write the new drama down and the throbbing of my brain as Vivien appeared before the foot* lights. But it was a success The moment she spoke I knew what would happen. Her grace, her bewitching face and figure, her beauty, fragile but passionately strongall these united to insure me a triumph such as the little theater had not scored in years. I found Vivien, brilliant eyed, in one of the wings after the fall of the curtain. She seemed to be waiting for no one, and when I came forward to con gratulate her she did not seem to see me at all. I spoke, but she did not look up. I touched her arm and spoke again, and then she seemed to recall that she owed me answer. "It was a success, Monsieur she said. "You are satisfied with your 'countess?'" How could I tell her how proud I was of her? How tell her that she had not only made her fortune, but my ow n, as well? "You shall go home with me to night," said the girl. "I believe the time has come, but you will let me precede you a little." I told her that I would be delighted to see her at home, and below we called a cab. "It will be going home with me if we go in-separate cabs, monsieur," spoke Vivien at the door "You can follow. I will direct the driver." She called another cab and directed the driver to take her to the Rue Bor laise, mentioning the number in the same breath. The man fell back and looked at her. Vivien was in the vehicle and the door was shut, and in another minute we were rattling over the streets of Paris, but in different cabs. Eager to see Vivien at home and to note the route taken by my cab, I leaned against the glass and took note of the streets. I was not far behind her, and I soon saw that we were entering the poorest quarter of Paris, the quarter where the petroleums and commune nad gasped and died before the bullets of the soldiery. Her cab halted and mine soon came up,but Vivien was already out of sight I entered the tall house and ran up the steps, for the girl tad told me that I would find her on the third floor back, in a little room ten by twelve. I heard the noise of a closing door as I started down the grimy corridor. I was there in a moment In another instant I had opaned the door and stood on the threshold. A light was burning on a table, and near it in a chair lay the form of an old woman Vivien was there, too, standing at the chair, with her face as white aa death and her eyes riveted upon the wrinkled face in the chair. I advanced, but the girl threw up her hand. "She is dead, monsieur," she said "She promised to live till I came back successful and she kept her word. This is my motherthe little woman who followed me from Haute Lor raine, and whose son, my brother, I avenged by cutting to pieces the face of the officer who had him shot those awful daj s. I have lived to achieve the only triumph I ever ^panted for. Oh, the long nights over the drama, oh, the patching it took and the oil we burned, and the bread we tried to save till it was ready for yon." I seemed thunderstruck "What, was it your work?the drama?'The Countess Claire?' Vivien smoothed the white hair that straggled over the cold temples of the dead and smiled. 'It was my work, but it took my blood Mother always said 'find him first,' and I fouud him. Monsieur, you have lost your countess you can find another, but she will not be Viv ien no, not the little butterflj' of the Haute Lorraine." I sprang forward to prevent her fiom falling to the floor in a faint, but she was down already, and I ten derly laid her upon the poorly draped bed irr one corner of the room. The little doctor whom I summoned looked once and then turned to me with a shake of his head. "It is too late, monsieur they will go side by side to Pere la Chaise, if they have money enough." And they had money enough for when the hour came the little cortege that wound in and out of eld Pans carried mother and child, our 'Coun tess Claire" and the widow of the Haute Lorraine, to the most beautiful city of the dead in the world. T* And we lost her, lost our star on the evening of its rising, and when we rode back, Jadet and I in the same cab, scarcely speaking, we saw a man stagger from a caboret, and the mo ment the light fell on his face we uttered exclamations of astonishment, for it was covered with hideous red scars, and Jadet, leaning- toward me, said in a stage whisper: "The disgraced captain, monsieur the man who wears the autograph of our little countess.'1 SOME SHORT LAUGHS. irsV-u**- *v LIFE'S BRIGHT SIDE AS SEEN BY the Humorists. A. Little Merriment I* a Good Lubri cant to Make tbe Wheels of Life Run Easily and SmoothlyGleaned From Exchanges. One of those hard-working newspa per men who put in about twenty-four hours a day in the effort to supply themselves and family with edulious matter was sitting at his desk the other afternoon looking as fresh and sweet as a daisy, when a friend dropped in on him. "My!" exclaimed the visitor, "you look good enough to eat." "I do eat," responded the worker in a tone of veneration for the an tiquity of 'lis harmless little joke. The visitor laughed just because he was feeksg good "Haven't you been away some place this summer?" he asked. "Oh, yes, I went away in June and returned in July "Ah, where did you go "I visited a foreign shore." "Is that so? No wonder you are looking well Did you have a good time? But of course you did you look it." "Had a fine time, but it was too soon over." "Where did you go?" "I left Detroit at 7 30 p. m., June 30, went over to Canada in a rowboat and came away at five minutes after midnight July 1." "Rats!" ejaculated the visitor, and asked the traveler to go out auds have a seltzer lemonade with hi Free Fro^ -*& i 9 "Green Old Age.* In No Need of Pie. "Madam," said Meandering Mike, tvhen, in response to his request for food, she offered him pie, "do ye re member a year ago when ye gave a sufferin' feller creature a pie?" "I believe so "Madam, I'm that man." "Was it good?" "Good! It saved my Me There was an unfeehn' farmer thet fired a box of tacks right iur my heart at short range. I hed yer pie buttoned up inside my vest, an' here it isfull o' tacks, ez ye kin see fur yourself. It ain't near wore out, an' I won't need another ter take its place fur a year yet "Washington Star. An Intelligent Animal. "What is th.3 matter with that mule?" asked a man who was stand ing on the bank of the canal. "He doesn't seem to be of any account whatever." "He's all right," replied the boat man. "The faults with me. Ye see, mister, he understands every word ye say to him." "He doesn't pay much attention to what you say." "That's what shows his inteUigence. I'AC jist iined church, an' he thinks 1m a stianger"Life. t- Glass Blower. In Fear. j'Jiiocli Arden, aften an absence of t\\ enty odd years, approached his hum ble cottage from the rear. It was grow ing duskish, but the most casual ob server could not fail to notice that Enoch's suspenders were fasteried with shingle nails, and that there was a dearth of woman's care throughout his makeup "Ah," he sighed as he faltered on the back door-step. He raised his hand as if to knock, hesitated covered his face and shrank away dare not," he exclaimed. He had suddenly i-eflected that he had forgotten to buy saleratus, as she directed upon the occasion of his de parture long ago After he. had gone, the gibbous moon rose grandly above the tree tops, just as if nothing had happened. "s 'Cut off his head," co'mmanded the despot. mMMmwmsfmk^A The scimetars of the executioners glittered aloft" "Cn you, oh, can yon?' shrieked tile miserable culprit The monarch knit his brow and whis pered to the grand vizier. "No," answered the latter, "he is not in the classified service.' His majesty turned brusquely to the condemned. "Certainly we can," he said. "Why not?" With a wave of his hand he bade th affair proceed, mm nt "On Account." The Acme. With a w'lld cry of joy the prodigal rushed into his father's arms. "My child," exclaimed the old man, "tell me all." "Across the sea," rejoined the son, "I wed the daughter of a railroad King." The parent grew suddenly cold and distant. "Huh," he sneered, "I thought you must have married into a police cap tain's family, by the lugs you put on He finally concluded however, to make the best of it. The Soul That Marched On. "Bridget," said the chief of the island of Zigi to his dusky wife, "I've had the most awful pain under my belt since dinner. Who was that mis sionary that we had for dessert?" "I don't know, sir," replied his faith ful helpmeet, "but I guess he Avas a prohibitionist. We found some tem perance tracts in his pockets "Great guns'. Is that so**" exclaimed the chief "I wish you'd be more care ful about using that brandy sauce."' Boston Herald Dctened. "Bethink you ere you strike The assassin paused with his glitter ing poniard raised in the air. "Contemplate," the victim argued fur ther, "the risk you run of being proved insane if you kill me The dagger fell upon the pavement With a snarl of mingled lage and fear the desperado troubled the crouch ing figure at his feet for a cigarette and strode away Null and Void. "Why can't we enforce a law pro hibiting prize fighting?" "The constitution guarantees th i ight of free speech." Literary Note. We are happy to announce something from the pen of Benjamin Wright, which is now before us. Small in vol ume, but interesting, worthy of its authora symphony, as it were, in the pigments of a pensive thought A Firm Believer. "The Bible, if I remember right," said Mr. Hungry Higgins, "says that six days a man shall labor and do all his work." "Guess you are right" assented Mr Weary Watkins .wondering what was coming next. "Well, I allow that I have done as much as six days' work in my life, and if I don't read the text wrong that is all the work a man is permit ted to do. It says 'do all thy work' don't it?"Indianapolis Journal. Nothing in It. Into the ear of the horse being driven by a young woman whispered the Voice of the Tempter. "Why. asked the Voice, "don't yon run away with her?" The Horse looked at the Voice in-' great surprise. "Just gaze at her face," he exclaimed, "Nobody but a bHnd man would run away with her." As Usual. The hero walked toward the foot lights. "How can I see thy lovely form," he cried, "when mine eyes are dammed with tears?" ISM N The low comedian, recognizing his cue at this point, came forward and remarked: "Not by a sight." Discouraging?. The cannibal who lingered at the landing sneered. "The poor," he exclaimed, petulantly, "are always with us." ,He recalled with sorrow that every missionary thus far had been gaunt and bony, and observed with bitter ness that the latest arrival was no ex oeptian.fgra^gb %f^% i SBBSSf- fcCISS Glean CitizenWhy are you always loafing around the street corners? Dirty TrampMake myself as valua: ble as passible. Just, Out of Her Teens and Able tv W^Sail the Biggrest Vessels. If her present plans do not miscarry Miss Elizabeth Polhemus, a 20-year old girl of San Diego, Cal., will be a certi fied pilot in about six months. Her fa ther is an old soldier who founght un der Farragut. He now holds a respon sible position at San Diego. His daugh ter therefore comes naturally by her love for the sea. Some time ago she cast about for means to earn her own living. Having on numerous occasions acted as pilot on incoming vessels, of course under the supervision of certi fied navigators, she determined to study for examination. Aided by her father she has made rapid progress. Elizabeth Polhemus.. So thorough is the young woman's knowledge of handling a ship and of the reefs, shoals currents and air cur rents of San Diego harbor that the old pilots who have instructed her in this difficult work seldom have a word to Bay in criticism of her management, and for six months it has not been neces sary to change one of her orders when bringing a ship into port. She will be examined by the state board of pilot commissioners in a few months and confidently ejects to pass The fees for bringing a vessel into San Diego are $5 per foot on the draught of the vessel and 4 cents per ton A 3,000-ton vessel drawing twenty feet of watejf would net $220 NECKWEAR FOR MEN. 4'he Trowel Puff is the Latest Novel" ty in This Line of Goods. There is more novelty in neckwear than in any article of men's wear this season The Ascot is coming back into Worn With a Scarf Ring-. use, and so is the moderate-seized puff. Extremes of all kinds have been out lawed. The principal innovation is a stock scarf which can be tied into a flat bow, an Ascot, a flat or a De Joinville. It is the delight of the Johnnnies. The trowel puff is another new fad,. which, it is expected, will win the gen* The Trowel ^uJt. ral approval of the swells. The flat 1 bows and club scarfSy fia new form, are also favored as accompaniments for A the colored pique shirt fronts which hold over from last season.-New Tories World. U^t^/^A School of Fish W 1