The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1871-03-04
THE WHITE CAMELLIA.
1. THE PHOTOGRAPHER.
A LONDON STORY.

I. THE PHOTOGRAPHER
There were no pleasanter rooms in Lon
don than those of my friend Edward May
nard, ESD, artist and Bohemian, or, as his
friends called him, "Teddy." There was
no occasion to repeat his surname, for Lon
don contained but one "Teddy' for U.S.
Teddy Maynard.
When | say Bohemian, 1 do not mean
that Teddy's existence was spent in the
haunting of disreputable taverns, and the
consumption of alcoholic mixtures, the
characteristics of many of the Bohemians
of the present day but that his tastes
were of 4 delicately unconventional kind,
and that while no cavalier looked moro
irreproachable at the Zoo" on Sundays,
he had gone through adventures in France
and Spain which served to show he had
deserted his vocation in being an artist,
and should have "gone in for" knight
errantry.
To return, however, to Teddys rooms,
in which was sitting on one pleasant after
noon, just when the Spring was about to
surrender herself to the kiss of Summer.
They were decorated after design of his
own. Dark maroon-colored panels, edged
with gold, with hangings and furniture to
correspond Over the mantel-piece was
curious old fashioned glass, set in an oak
frame. Cabinets and bookcases of the
same wood stood in various parts of the
room and the walls uarn odornad with coma
good pictures in oil and water colors, the
production chiefly of Teddy's artist friends,
who had given him those "nice little bits"
which delight painters and puzzle the pub
lie. 1t was not far off Regent Street,
quiet row of houses within sight and hear
ing of that gay thoroughfare and the dist
ant echoes of voices and footsteps, mingled
with the roll of carriages brought ones
thoughts back to London, when the beauty
of the afternoon had carried them away
into dreamy visions of how the country
was looking in the spring time.
Teddy was out. He was always out
when you called, and l was waiting for
him, in obedience to note left for me with
his Cerberus. Having to wait, it was
natural that l should light cigar, and
then, looking about for the mischief which
DR.. Watts declares the enemy of mankind
will always find for idle hands to do,
seized upon one of the Photographic albums
which ornamented the table, and COM
menced an investigation as to whether
Teddy had picked up any new cartes- de-
oisite. / may mention that he had a per-
was always having them presented to him
on his first introduction to people, and buy
ing any pretty faces that he took a fancy
to in his walks abroad. saw a good many
old favorites in his book. The pretty girl
in the riding habit he had the happiness to
call cousin; the young lady with charm
ingly dishevelled hair, who had distinguish
ed herself so in private theatricals, and a
good many more and then hastily turned
over the leaves to get nearer the end of the
book, where any new faces would be found.
And how was l rewarded? How can
put upon paper the impression that pho
tograph, the last in the album, made upon
me? / was at first quite startled. | was
only looking at the pictures carelessly, but
something in the face of this one made me
start up and go to the window with the
book, to get a better light upon it. The
photograph was wonderfully good one
The sun, glad to linn SO fair face, had
done his work lovingly and well. 1t was
the most beautiful, the most expressive,
face that had ever seen. Dark hair, as
far as l could tell, a face classical in it's
perfection lit up with eyes that seemed
almost to have the power of speech as they
looked at you. An exquisite mouth, small,
| and not too full, while the curve of the