Newspaper Page Text
THE SUNDAY HERALD, SUNDAY, MARCH 1. 1891.
sfcsnBEoras essssmsssxssEssasmsBsssssBBssESBaa KiL.iaimia:i.utiii'',wii.w11l1l,;fMj1aB t3R23&ZZEaZ5B3Cn3S3Z&SSSE!5SEa5SEHS53a5SJ tsssascxBzm JESZBSSBX nssssu7j;zuuwUa!Ju.w;:uixKS7-c RNI 9s The Finest That Creates parkling Table Water and Ginger Champa AM ABSOLUTELY NATURAL MIMSBAL WATES amm H . r ro ,r H & ra &n UM I Digestion, System Oeneraliv. ist. The developed springs of Manitou consist of the following group : NAVAJO, MANITOU, and SHOSHONE, all controlled by the M ANITOU MINERAL WATER COMPANY. 2d. The purity and virtue of these remarkable springs have long been known, but it is only within the last three years that efforts have been made to supply the waters to the people in a commercial way, and the success of the business since then has been truly wonderful, the demand having grown to such proportions as to require the constant employment of a large force of men to bottle. and ship the goods. 3d. These waters are bottled JUST AS THEY FLOW FROM THE EARTH AND SOLD IN BOTTLES ONLY; EVERY BOTTLE is put UP AT THE SPRING. Therefore our customers can be assured that what they receive is the PURE MINERAL SPRING WATER. 4th. Nearly all so-called natural mineral waters to be at all palatable must be treated with a solution of SALT and BI-CARBONATE of SODA. This Company will place as a guarantee and forfeit the sum of ($500) FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS if it can be found that one iota of either of these ingredients is impregnated into the MANITOU WATERS, except by Nature. 5th. One of the remarkable features of these waters is the amount of FREE CARBONIC ACID GAS they contain, the bubbling of which can be heard many feet away. A glassful of water dipped from the spring has ALL THE EFFERVESCENCE of the best brands of champagne. Herein lies its GREAT VIRTUE AS A TABLE WATER, this peculiar and lasting effervescence, together with its other mineral properties, acts as a most EXCELLENT APPE TIZER and remedy for INDIGESTION OR DYSPEPSIA, and as a corrective for many other ailments. 6th. The Company also make from this water, combined with PURE FRUIT flavors and Jamaica Ginger, a most healthful and delicious beverage which they have happily named MAITOU GINGER CHAMPAGNE. A more delightful and refreshing drink for ladies and children cannot be found, which explains at once the large demand that has sprung up for these goods. TRY IT AND YOU WILL USE NO OTHER. 7th. The Manitou Water Company will guarantee this exhilarating beverage absolutely free from CAYENNE PEPPER and es sential, oils, and that only their own extraction of pure Jamaica Ginger and Fruit Juices are used. jSl. Gr 3E IK! T ISZ Seventli Street 3Wortli7,st? Wa raj sblngrton, 3D O. SIR CUPID. Sir Cupid once, as I have heard, Determined to discover "What kind of a man n maid preferred Selecting for a lover. So, putting on a soldier's coat, He talked of martial glory; And from tho way he talked, they say, She seemed to like the story 1 Then, with a smile sedate and grim, He changed his stylo and station: n shovel hat and gaiters trim Ho made his visitation. He talked of this, discoursed on that, Of Palestine and nermou; And from the way ho preached, they say. She seemed to like tho sermon ! Tnen. changed again, he came to her A roaring, rattling sailor. He cried, "Ho, ho ! I love you so !" And vowed he'd never fail her. He talked of star and compass true, The glories of the ocean; And from the way he sang, they say. She 6ccraed to like tho notion 1 Then Cupid, puzzled in his mind, Discarded his disguises; "That you no preference seem to find My fancy much surprises." "Why so?" she cried, with roguish smile. "Why, prithee, why so stupid? J do not care what garb you wear. So long as you are Cupid 1" Frederic E. Weatjieri.v. .4 P&AST0H PORTRAIT. Prom the Cornhlll Magazine. "Dear Mike: Will you look in at my Bhop this -evening? QuilleriBln town, and isgotngtodino with me at the club. I can't stand an evening of him alone, but if you and Teddy O'Brien will sup port me, with pines uud potations, I think wo shall be n match for him. Come early, and I'm your Iriend lor life. Dick Graves." I had nothing particular to do, so I sent word round to Dick that I should turn up, having first made sure that Teddy O'Brleu, whose studio was in tho same block, would go al60. Qulller wo knew of old, as all the world knew him a man who bad seen everything, done everything, been everywhere and these occasional visits of his were a perpetual terror to Graves. Why ho paid them we never knew. There was a kind of tra ditional friendship between tho families cer tainly, but Qulller was a mau who scoffed at tra dition. He was In every way out of sympathy with u set of ardent and impecunious painters. As journalist, as traveler, a6 man of the world, he had outlived his enthusiasm. Life con tained no new experiences, no surprises for him. It was only a monotonous round of the known and the expected. Dick Graves, who usually shone as a host, was not at his best that evening. lie was ner vous at first, and rather silent, leaving the bur den of talk to Teddy and myself, and wo had the ill-luck as the punch circulated to light on a vein of humorous stories, at which we laughed consuinedly ourselves without evoking evon a emilofrom the guest of the evening. "Will you fellows look over my Cornish sketches?" said Graves, suddenly jumping up in desperation. "I think there are some you have not seen" and ho began to rummage about among a pile of old conva6es. tulJler resumed bis seat andBatbalf absently, balf-contemptuously, watching us as we turned over the paintings possibly he was amused by our jargon of "tone" and "quality," and the rest. At leusth I picked up from tho heap a painting that caught my eye and propped It up on the easel near the lamp. It was quite unllko Graves's usual work, and I stood looking at it for a moment, not quite knowing why I did so. It was the head of a young woman, pale and slightly worn. She was leaning n little for ward, looking out of the picture, her mouth parted by a slight, tremulous 6tnile, and in her eyes a look that was a strange mingling of emo tions, as if a new hope and happiness had come into a llfo of sorrow a look half wistful, half exultant. I turned to speak to Graves, and 6aw that Qulller had got up and was standing gazing at the picture with a look of fascination or of fear. Here at last was something that in terested him. Where did you get that?" he asked ab ruptly. "What do you think of It?" said Graves slowly. "It's a good head," said Teddy O'Breln. "It's a wonderful model," said I. "A face to haunt one," said Qulller, in a tone quite unlike hl6 ordinary cynical one. "Ah, that's It," said Graves. "It's more than human," "Who Is it?" said Qulller, in his abrupt way ag&fn. "'I'on my eoul I can't tell you, fori dou't know. It's a queer story, and one I'm almost ashamed to ask you to believe. I shan't blame you if you think I'm humbugging." We settled ourselves by tho lire with our pipes, aud Dick begau his story in a manner, for him, so uuusually grave and irapresslvo that it seemed to leave no room for doubt as to his perfect good faith in tho matter. "I weut into Cornwall, as you know, at the end of the summer, and after loafing 'round Newlyu for a while, I went to the south coast, to try and find 6omo place that had beeu less painted. I stayed a few days at Polperro, but It was all so much like the smaller exhibitions in town that I could not stand it, aud I finally landed at ," naming a small seaport town "where there were no painters and not many visitors. I stayed at tho 'Ship Inn," and looked 'round for some place to hang up my palette. After some Inquiries 1 found a small cottatre which had been empty for some time, but which bad evidently been U6ed as a studio, for there was a wall knocked out at one side and a good-sized room added, with a high north light. On the south, the kitchen and 'parlor,' which opened ono into the other, hadja view of tho loveliest little harbor in the world. Tho place waB just what I wanted, and the rent was absurd only 10 a year; so I took it for six months, on tho understanding I was to keep it on If I chose. I bought u few things to make tho place comfortable, and got an old woman to look after it for rae; but I lived most of tho tlmo at the 'Ship.lnn,' and just at first I spent very little time at the btudlo, only taking iu my canvases at night. When October set in cold and wet I had to do some work ln-doora, and then it was I begau to think there was something queer about the place. Ono day I had been painting a young girl from the village, the grand-daughter of my ancient dame, and I whs putting a few touches to the background, when I heard a sound close behind me, like a Ycry gentle sigh, I looked 'round quickly, but there was no one In sight no one in the room, In fact. I went on painting, with an uncom fortable feeling of something uncanny, and in a few minutes the sound was repeated actually at my ear. I dropped my brush with the start I made, and then I went all through tho house to see if any one was in it. I knew that Annie and her grandmother had gone home, and I thought I hoped that some poor soul had crept In to shelter from the rain by the kitchen fire. Well, there was not a soul near tho place. I locked up carefully that night when 1 went back to the Inn, aud in the solace of a glass of grog and a pipe before I went to bed 1 almost persuaded myself there was nothing in it. In the morning I had really forgotten it, I fancy; but when I got back to tho studio a curious thing had hap pened. Eight across the face in my picture wero a couple of brush marks, such as you might make If you wero trying the tooth of a canvas, completely spoiling my work of tho day before. I called up Annie aud her grand mother, and accused them of playing tricks. They were iudignant at tho idea, and finally 1 had to apologize for my suspicions. We searched the house together, but could find no means by which any one could have entered, and at last I was obliged to conclude that I must have done the damage myself when I lot my brushes fall. In a few days, however, it became impossible to explain tho thing by this or any other natural means; constantly my canvases were tampered with, and I grow to have tho feeling that after twilight I was never alono in the room; that faint sigh, which had so startled mo at first, I came to listen for and expect, and I began at last to clothe It with a personality, and to wish I had some mcan6 of comforting tho poor 60ul who had no other language In which to express her despair. I j did not think It was she who had defaced my canvases, however, and 1 took to carrying my l work back with me at night to the inn, where ! they wero secure from interference. . "I suppose the thing wouldthavc ended there I but for au accident. There was a race meeting j i in tho town, and tho 'Ship' was invaded by a i ' low set of fellows, who got drunk, and mado beasts of themselves generally. Tho place be- cumo unbearable, aud I determined to camp in i tho studio until they cleared out. I made up a big lire, got my old woman to leave me some hot water in tho kettle, and with help of a rug and a pillow stuffed into the back ot iy chair I mado myself tolerably comfortable for tho night. How long I slept I don't know. I awoke suddenly, not as ono does iu bed, with a drowsy feeling of relief that it is too early to get up, but with every Beneo on tho alert, aud a curious impression that something unusual was happening. Tho fire was utill bright, and mado a glow on the opposite wall; but what made tho room so light was tho moon shining in through the square window in tho roof. I could see everything In the room quite plainly, but I seemed oppressed by some weight that made me powerless to move. I sat there staring at what happened as helpless as if I had been bound. My painting things wero just as I had left them; my canvas, on which I had sketched in a head, on tho easel, and close by, on a stool, paints, brushes, and palette. They had beeu there, that is to say, for now there stood iu front of tho easel, with his back to me, a tall man, with a stoop iu his shoulders, and dark gray hair; ho had my palette in his hand, and he was paint ing with a sort of nervous intensity that it thrilled one to 6ue. I looked to see whut ho was painting, for he keptglancluir over toward the patch In tho moonlight; but at first I could see nothlug. Then I heard that llttlo gentle sigh, but uot, it seemed to me, so utterly weary and heart-broken as formerly; it was a sigh al most of content. And us I pondered on this my eyes seemed to become more accustomed to tho light; aud there, in the moonlight, on tho very chair Iu which Annie had sat, was a woman, leaning slightly forward, young, beau tiful, and very pale but you have seen tho pic ture, I looked at her now more than at him, only glancing now and then to see how tho work went on. As I watched her the face changed, and tho sorrowful, worn look gave place to a kind of wondering happiness he has not quite got it in the picture: it was as if tho feeling wero so intense it made a kind of ra diance round her. I don't know how long 1 watched. At last a sound mado mo turn and look at tho painter; he had thrown down tho palette and brushes, and was standing looking at his work; then ho turned slowly and held out his hands with a supplicating gesture. She had risen, too, and came a step forward, with a wonderful light in her eyes, and just as she put her hands in his a cloud crossed over tho moon and blotted out tho fig ures from my sight. When it passed tho patch of moonlight was empty, and there was only tho painted head and the palette lying on the floor to convince me I had not been dreaming. After that I must have fallen asleep, for it was broad daylight when I next remember anything, and I heard tho welcomo and familiar sound of my old woman preparing my breakfast. The smell of frying pilchards was refreshingly mundane, and I got up stiff and sore from my uneasy couch, prepared to find that my phantoms of tho night before had been nothing but a dream. No; there was the picture, just as you see it, and on tho floor were tho palette and brushes. I picked them up and looked curiously at them. If you'll believe me, I could never make up raj' mind to clean tho paint off that palette, and it hangs there just as that fellow left it." Wo sat sllont for some minutes when Graves had done. I confess tho story Impressed mo n good deal, and glancing up I could see that Qulller was strangely moved. "And did you never have any explanation of the thing?" said I at last. "No," said Graves, "I ncvor had any explana tion, and I don't suppose I evor shall." Qulller had risen, and stood near the Are. "I think I can give It," ho said, knocking the ashes out of his pipe. Graves stared at him; no one spoke, and lie went on, as if unwillingly: "That must have been Drake's cottage you had; he was before your time I daresay you never heard of him. Ho lived there with his wlfo and that's her portrait." Graves'B stare of surprise became more pro found, und Teddy and I looked on in silent wonder. Quiller went on, speaking like a mau that has been carried quite out of himself: "There was a tragic story told about Drako and his wife. Ho was a good deal older than sho, and cbanifcablo aud moody iu his ways; and she, poor child, was ambitious to help h"im to bo groat. At first ho was tender and thought ful toward her, aud then ho seemed to forget how fragile and sonsltlve she was neglected her, and grow more aud more morose and moody. Ho used to get very savago about his models, and complain that it was impossible to got any ono with intelligence enough to ait decently. Once his wife asked him whether she could not sometimes help htm by sitting, and he only laughed at her, I remember. 'You you 1' ho said that was all. Then tho poor child had an illuess, which, if she had been happier, mighthavo ended differently, and been a new happiness to both of them; but sho was too worn out with sorrow and disappointment, aud in the end she died. In her delirium she was always calling to her husband: 'Let me help you, let mo bo of some use; only once, dear; palut mo only once;' and poor Drako, who woke up to a sense of his loss, was heart-broken at his inability to satisfy her. The tendereet and most passionate tones of his voice never reached her, aud she died without ever knowing him agalu. After that Drako was a changed man; he seemed to have only ono idea to paint tho portrait of his wife. Canvas after cunvas he spoiled, and when I went so see him ho would say: 'She cannot rest until I have done it. I must suc ceed; Booner or later I must satisfy her.' At leugth he became so unmanageable, eating nothing, and spending long, sleepless nights that his friends He died some walking about the country, came and took him away. months after In an asylum." "By Jove !" said Teddy O'Brien when Quiller had finished, and then relapsed into silence. I looked at Graves, but ho was lost in a wonderment too deep for words. "Tho portrait's very like rtier," said Qulller, with a strange awe in his tone. "I'm glad poor Drako succeeded at last." "You think " eaid I, and broke off. Quiller was putting on his coat. Ho answered my unspoken question with a solemulty for which I was not prepared. "For twenty-two years those two poor ghosts have been waiting their opportunity. Lot us bo thankful that in tho end they found it." Ho seemed to forget to take leave of us In any way, and went without another word. As tho door closed each of us drew a deep breath of relief. Dick raised his head with an air of stupefaction. "That's a rum story," said Teddy O'Brien; "why did you never tell it before?" "The rummlest thing about It is the sequel," said I. "Dick, old man, is your part true?" "I don't know," said Dick; "I begin to think it must be." "Great Scotland Yard !" said Teddy 0' Brien "did you muko it up?" "Every word of it on the spur of the mo ment." "Did you know " "Not a word. Quiller seemed struck by that picture, and It was tho only 6ign of human In terest he had 6hown, so 1 thought I'd humor him. I didn't mean a ghost story when I be gan, but It somehow developed Into that. I would have glvon a good deal to take a rise out of him, but I never hoped for uuy thing 60 com plete as this." "It was a curious colncldonco that you should have taken Drake's cottage," said Air. O'Brien. "Yes," oatd Dick dryly, "but the most curi ous part of It all is that tho cottage was mado up, too." "Groat Scotland Yard !" said Teddy O'Brien again. "And who painted tho head?" "I painted It myself," said Dick, "and I be gin to think it must bo a deuced good picture." Fees ol Pension Attorneys. It Is probable that tho conference on tho Pen sion Appropriation bill will be compelled to report a disagreement. Tho IIouso conferees have sent au ultimatum to tho Senate conferees Insisting that tho reduction of fees of pension attorneys made by tho bill shall apply in all cases except where special contracts are on file in tho Pension Office. Tho Souato conferees Insist that the reduction shall uot apply to any existing contracts, whether on file In tho Pen sion Ofllco or not, aud refuse to go any further. Acting; Secretaries Designated. The President has designated Assistant Sec retary Nettleton to act as Secretary of- tho Treasury In the absfcuco of Secretary Foster and Assistant Secretary Spauldlng to act iu tho absence of both. There is no difference iu the rank of tho Assistant Secretaries aud tho above designation is mado In the order of seniority of appointment. Tho vacant Assistant Secretary ship will be filled iu a low weeks. - p- -- Impeachment ol a Judge. In tho the Houso yesterday Mr. Thompson, of Ohlo.f rom the Committee on Judiciary, reported the followlug resolution: "That Aleck Boar man, judge of tho Uulted Stutes District Court for tho Western DIstrictof thoStateof Louisiana, bo impeached for high crimes and misdemean ors." The discussion of this resolution was in terrupted to proceed to tho consideration of tho resolutions of respect to tho memory of tholato Representative James Phelan, of Tennessee. DrinkTaunhau3erboer, H. Bonzler.