Cincinnati daily press. [volume] (Cincinnati [Ohio]) 1860-1862, 1861-12-17
A CHARMING STORY.
Paul BrOWneIl's Little Sister.

Ia MEllA ' illuNIA NlNlOhs
Of all men, 1t was curious that should
have been dry-goods retail clerk l, who
despised fashionable women, fashionable
shops, and the fashionable business of "tape
and bobbin" vending with all my soul. Yet
here l was, head clerk in the silk depart
ment of Million & Billions magnificent
store the best-dressed fool in the whole
establishment; such perfect model of what
such a young man should be that had the
honor of being chosen by Draper g. Co. as
the original of one of their best wax figures
for the display of their latest styles. Incon-
ceivable honor for which some of my asso-
ciates would have secretly sacrificed their
situations. That wax figure was an aggra-
waiting torment to me. | was an artist that
is, | had vocation for art and l knew it; f;
/ should haze been an artist. You do not be-
lieve me, for you say, if you had possessed
that genius for art which alone could excuse
your vanity in dreaming it; you would have
found it your destiny to accomplish the pur-
poses your being, you would have forsaken
dry-goods, all the soft splendors of silks and
satins, and followed your true mission
through poverty, hunger, hardship, death.
Well, it is true that, earnestly as loved
art, there was something dearer to me even
than that. l had b little sister, so tenderly
precious to me that for her sake | gave up
the combat for fame against want and IA
mine, and assumed o calling distasteful to
my nature. Florence was such a frail little
creature, she needed so many luxuries just to
keep the breath and sweetness of life in her
fioWer-like body, that could not make up
my mind to walk over her grave on my way
to the Academy of Design. Our mother had
left her to me when she was but four years
of age. | was her only protector and rela-
tive, and she was my all of worldly fortune.
/ myself had named her "FlOrence," in those
years of boyish anticipation, when had
looked forward to q fair Italian city of that
name as my future and natural abiding
place. My father lived then, and was
prosperous man, doing moderate business;
we had little home of our own, on the
outskirts of the city; and, though he was
not able to send me abroad as wished he
could allow me leisure, paints, pencils,
brushes, and canvas, and quiet little room
of my own, next to my mothers, where
could hear her singing to little Florence as
worked l fretted for Italy in those days,
and did not realize that l was not in those
very moments dwelling in Paradise which
Italy never could emulate.
My father died, and with his death came
an end of his business; dishonest partners
secured the lions share, leaving my mother
only the debts of the concern, so that our
home went finally into the clutches Of cred
itors and when she followed her husband
10 the grave, she had only little Florence to
leave me. Precious legacy 1 was going
to become great artist right away, and
get rich as well as famous for her sake.
Meanwhile, the child sometimes went
hungry, and could not bear the patient ia
mine in her blue eyes as she sat and watched
me at that work which never sold, which
was always just going to buy her q silk
dress, yet never bought her bread. Bear
it no! For myself | would have hugged
starvation rather than have relinquished the
ideal of my life but for her sake any occu-
patton which was not absolutely dishOnora-
Bile seemed dignifed. My father, though
only merchant in picayune way, had had
business relations with Million Billion,
who had respected him for his integrity;
and when presented myself to them as q
candidate for a vacant clerkship, they ac-
cepted me on the strength Of his good
name.
l made o frst-rate salesman. l was
handsome; had an air; and such q mus
tache; and, the ladies said, such an eye for
colors Very likely; when the great piles
of gorgeous silks had been arranged "with
my usual discrimination" there is no doubt
but that they looked their best. was dream
ing of beds of roses while ! hung the pink
brocades and shadoWed them over with
greeneries Of shining single moire-autiques.
When l flung the almost priceless lace in
graceful festoons over the pearly satins and
silks, | was haunted with visions of mist
pierced through by moonlight, silently dis
solving ON the bosom of some crystal lake.
Since | could not do the thing wanted,
that which did do would do TO the best OF
my ability. l told the fat blowsy Mrs.
Dahlia just what shade Of maroon velvet
would best tone down the crimson Of her
neck and face; that is, which was most
"beeoming to her," without reference to par
ticulars. persuaded Miss Prim out of the
yellow lute-stTing into the peach. blossom
moire "the most charming dress she had
ever wCrn," she told me afterward / made
myself 30 valuable to the establishment that
was promoted, with an increased salary.
was able TO dress my pretty Florence in cum
Fl ming hats and soft muslins, and 10 place her
in private school, under the care OF a gentle
lady, who wisely watched the unfolding of
a delicate flower. Florence played for me
on the piano, and sang for me, when went
to visit her, said she was 80 happy, and /
wac such q good brother. l saw all the
sharp outlines Of want rounding out Of her
fair face, and only smiles and content il
her eyes and gay elasticity in her steps
and ], too, was happy; only i was torture
by thirst for the springs had forsaken.
My evenings were my own, but the even
1ng 10 not 80 valuable 70 the artist rs to tn