New-York tribune. [volume], October 17, 1921, Page 7, Image 7

About New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924

Image provided by: Library of Congress, Washington, DC

                
f?W?
WOMAN IN WHITE
A Story by
e proud descendant of
butlers, had beer, caught
least he thought so, when
stood before him, framed
But jack McCor
s looking backward
over his shoulder to where Elizabeth, his young wife,
was sitting before the fireplace, lie stood for a sec?
ond, then, with a ''damn che worr.cn!" he slammed
the door. "My hat and ccav, levons." "Yes, sir;
thank you, sir." And Jack flew down the front steps
two at a time.
In the library Elizabeth McCormack sat sobbing.
Before her marriage she had been Elizabeth De Ruy
ter, tracing her family on both sides back to the first
Dutch settlers on Manhattan Island. She had met
Jack McCormack through her brother, who had been
a classmate of Jack's at Harvard. Jack's western
breeziness, stalwart manhood and unaffected poise
liad fascinated the New York girl from the first. And
when he asked her to become his wife she had not
hesitated for a moment to trust herself and her future
to the strong arms of the young western millionaire.
Jack loved her deeply and truly; of that there could
be no doubt. There had been, of course, a few little
spats during the six months of their married life,
temperamental differences and differences in their
point of view due to the early environment among
which they had grown up. Until now. though, these
little scenes had been just lovers' quarrels, such as
come and go on the wings of the wind, never touching
the real life of their young souls.
But this evening jack had hurt her cruelly. He
had been obstinate beyond belief, rough, primitively
coarse. Piad ruthlessly trampled upon some of her
most cherished traditions, had called her a senti?
mental fool and a Colonial snob. "Oh. the brute!"
What had she done or said to deserve it? She had
wanted an ermine wrap, and wanted it from that New
York house where her family had been buying their
furs for four generations. And for that he had called
her a snob. He wanted her to wait till they got to
Paris. "Paris is the only place in the world to buy
worth-while things with good American dollars."
Really, it was Jack who was snobbish. To him the
French capital and American dollars seemed very
real?family traditions meant nothing to him. She
knew she was right to insist upon buying her furs
where her mother had bought hers, and the mother
and grandmother of her mother had bought theirs.
With her family this was more than a real habit.
It had become a tradition. Between the man who
had founded that fur house away back In 1863 ana
the three sons who had entered the father's business
in later years, on the one side, and her family on the
other, there had gradually developed a mutual bond
of trust and confidence which had grown stronger
and stronger from year to year and from generation
to generation.
To her mind came the story which her grand?
mother Vandervelt had told her?the story how in
1863 Elizabeth's great-grandmother, who was only
19 and just married to young Van Hoorne. had be?
come acquainted with Hugo Jaeckel.
THE GRANDMOTHER'S STORY
Young Mrs. Van Hoorne was walking through
Prince Street on her way to Niblo's Garden at Broad?
way, where Edwin Forrest was appearing in a Shake?
speare revival, when she was stopped by a new sign
in front, of No. 46. The sign read "Hugo Jaeckel,
Furrier,'' and the rest of the story was told in the
attractive display of fine fur pieces in one of the
ground floor windows. The young bride gazed long
and longingty at a beautiful ermine tippet and muff.
The lustrous, shimmering, snowy fur, relieved in
spots by the little black tails of the ermine, v/as too
lovely for anything. Oh, how she wanted it! It
seemed she never had wanted anything so much in
her young life, When Hugo Jaeckel told her the
price and explained how many of those tiny pelts
were required for a neckpiece and muff, how difficult
it was, to obtain and to match these rare and costly
skins which came from far-away Siberia, she under?
stood why the price which Hugo Jaeckel had quoted
her was far beyond her and her husband's slender
means. But she also sensed, the way Hugo Jaeckel
talked to her about fine furs, that Itere was a man who
understood and loved his trade, a man who had ideals
and not mere dollar and cents ideas, a man who could
be thoroughly trusted. Two /ears later she got her
heart's desire. T-ier young husband had bought the
ermine furs for her with some of the money he had
made in a fortunate overseas venture, and he tenderly
put the tippet around her neck the morning after
grandmother Vandervelt had opened her eyes upon
this world. Of course, the ermine had been bought
at Hugo Jaeckel's.
Since then, the daughters and granddaughters of
old Mrs. Van Hoorne all had bought their furs a*
what has become to-day the house of H. Jaeckel ?:
Sons. And no matter what the style and what the furs
in vogue, they always had bought some ermine. They
had a penchant for ermine. The ermine cape followed
the tippet and muff, the stole followed the cape, and
now it was the gorgeous ermine wrap which Elizabeth
wanted to drape around her slender shoulders. The
Van Hoornes, Vandervelts, De Ruyters had been
known in New York Society as the "Women in White
Furs." And, strange to relate, all of them, even Eliza
beth, had met Hugo Jaeckel, who was through all
these years, and is to-day, the active head of his firm.
though it v/as he who had sold the first piece of
ermine; to great-grandmother Van Hoorne in 1363.
ELIZABETH'S DREAM
Elizabeth had fallen asleep. She w,~s dreaming.
She saw herself in a magnificent ermine wrap, stand?
ing before the painting of great-grandmother Var?
Hoorne. The next moment she saw herself hurrying
through Prince Street?the Prince Street of 1863.
She v/as trying to catch up with young Mrs. Van
Hoorne, who had just reached the stoop of Hugo
faeckel, the furrier. But Elizabeth could not run as
fast as she wanted to. The long, trailing wrap was
clinging to her feet and hampering lier steps. Just
when she thought she had reached young Mrs. Van
Hoorne she tripped and felt herself slipping on the
glistening snow. But two strong arms caught her.
ifted her to her feet. "Tack,"
held her, and gently
she said, "what are you doing down here in Prince
Street?"
"Sweetheart, wake up. dear; you have been
dreaming. You are not in Prince Street, you are
here with me in your home. I am sorry 7 made a too;
of myself. And to prove it to you. we are going to
buy that ermine wrap to-morrow where 45th Street
crosses Fifth Avenue."
"Jack, dear, bend down your six-feet-two. I have
a secret?I want to whisper it. Really. I don't think
you would have let me go to Paris even if I had
wanted to. I remember you saying that when a
McCormack baby first sees the Statue of Liberty it
must be from this side of the Atlantic."
THE END
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The Story of The Woman in White was inspired by the history and the record o? the Fur House of
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1 !ugo Jaeckt I
>i. Francis Jaeckel. Jr. ,
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ST *n ?Tklk \ ' ?
One family management since 1863
Rit hard Jaeckel
Walter F. Taeckel
Where 45th Street crosses 5th Avenue