New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1874-10-11


Those were blithe days, believe me. Did
I not worship with heart full OF ldolatry
the French milliner who lived on the first
floor, and who was always won't to rush out
into the hallway to see where the wind
came from, or if her dear little Feedo had
run away, whenever she heard me coming
in, and who blushed very red and hung her
eyeiids they were long dropping lids, with
frlnges like the ella of stag beetleI when
she saw me! Shell 1 ever forget the look
of radiant joy with which sac once bounced
out when l was stealthily $50 thonghtl
bringing in my crackers and cheese and
bottle OF Bass ale, tied up SO as to look Ike
a roll Of manuscript How she struggled
to conceal her disappointment when she
found it was not sOmetink for her, cb, and
how my heart bled for her after tftc, the
poor little dear, with nobody to bflng her
sometink! and how l commenced Modestly
with ten cent uosegays. anu. gaming
strength with her smiles, mounted 10 TWEEN
ty-fve cent soap, and then, taking holder
flight, rOse to Lubiu's extracts, and finally
scared recklessly into the illimitable space
OF French confectionery and cheap JeWelry.
suppose it was a purely Bohemian illu-
sion, but cOddIed it in those days; lying
there in my smoking jacket, listening to
the young McGinniss on :he awning. and
picturing my French mil!ner stepping out
OF her coach with proud and dainty air, the
crowd falling back and the little boys hold
ing their breath and the shrewd people
saying in whispers. Mrs. CIinkle, the peer
less peri OF the period" or giving express
sion to some other natural and authoritative
form OF admiration.
Then what pangs of suspicion when saw
her, as looked over the balnsters. rush
out and drop her 1ringed lids and blush
when Dick Wing came What arrowy
agony shot through me when l found out
that Tom Darling, who had the fourth floor
back, was buying ten-cent nOsegays regu-
larly, and that Charley Alcott (poor fellow,
he's dead and gone now had actually
reached the stage of scented soap.
BY what mesmerism know not, the dear
creature managed to convey to me thrOugh
her dropping lids q sly iutimation that CO.
fectionery was liable to become mono.
nous. think she said it was ''playet, .1t.
Cream caramels l had to acknowleds- >!
the recesses of my heart, no longer cI,'iml
the blood to her cheek. l think l ~
boxes of sardines for nearly week with
only slight improvement. Sardines did
not touch her deeply-and they were fifty
cents box. To stir tie emotional nature
of this angel, said, requires the ingenuity
of manager and the exche4uer OF Hoths-
child.
Then l experimental with g-raniums in
pots, with beautiful little bisque Cupids,
with bananas, with oysters in sweet little
paper boxes. Alas! what stream of deli
cacies, of Neufchatel cheese and tortoise
shell combs and monogram paper poured at
her feet. And all the while was building
her marble palace in the air. 1t was
some satisfaction to know that Dick Wing
and the rest of them were torturing their
brains in the same way. 1t was with devil
ish Joy that learned that Tom Darling
had tried papiermache clock and had
not found peace, and that Charley Alcott
had endeavored to purchase smile with
pCmatum and had failed. Tom, however.
who had q brilliant imagination, opened a
new vein. He it was that discovered that
the road to her heart lay through silk
dresses and champagne suppers.
What triumph was his in that hallway
when he gave her the first bundle. and she.
tearing off the paper wrapper. exclaimed.
"Mon Deu / am yours, take me " and
then leaned. gasping with emotion, against
the greasy wall paper, and Tom had to lead
her in to her old mother and fan her. and
give her brandy and water.
Why. l ask you, should 1.-THE Sphinx"
recall all these old memories-remind me
how the strong, impulsive nature of that
dear girl led her to expect presents every
time Tom came to see her; how she once
told him that she had devil in her. and if
he would not rouse it he must not fail to
brin. her something every time he came;
and then how she got up one morning and
ran away with the end man Of = niger
show, and Tom and I pulled down our
castles and wore downcast looks for week:
and how one day We went to the Morgue,
and saw pinched face. blue and bruised.
lying there under the drip, and the man
said it was . case Of Paris green, and Tom
said il was a FramAe
Why should the Sphinx" with its blaze
OF light and it's eoft purtumes and its bril-
liant costumes. whirl me thus inevitably
back 20 the mofgue, and the liyid. wasted
form Of the poor wretch lying there cold
and friendless in the starlight OF death
Nobody can answer these ques.ions. In
tho dense perfume of the French beudoir
there is faint Of the gutter. The road
that leads to certain kinds Of heroism leads
also TO the kennel.
met Tom at the theatre the other night.
He's nabOb now and lives on the avenue,
and has four girls prettier than any French
milliner that ever yearned for presents.
'it's beautiful, isn't it!' said. A bit Of
heavens truth fished out Of the puddle"
"Ies," said he, 'some people 60 about
looking for the reflection OF heaven in pud.
dies, when if they would only hold their
heads up they'd see the real thing beaming
beautifully forever in the calmness and
majesty Of the universe-Ner York World.