The New Orleans daily Democrat. [volume] (New Orleans, La.) 1877-1880, 1877-12-30
CINDERELLA.


like the mass OF his brethren, had no
superabundance OF this worlds goods.
Hfs studio was very much like a hun
dred others-a long, narrow room, with
q broad window at ore end and b sky
light above; o crimson carpet, some-
what faded, on the floor. few chairs
and couches of the same soft color, and
the usual guantum Of "sketches,"
"studies," and unframed pictures on
the walls and half finished paintings on
the easels. It differed from most artists
studies 10 this thing. though, that every,
where throughout the length and
breadth Of the room you saw the evi-
dences OF woman's neatness and taste.
There was no dust upon the loose piles
OF drawings, no cobwebs clinging to the
statuettes that ornamented the room,
and though books and papers and
sketches seemed to lie around in pic
turesque carelessness, there was never
theless method In their very disar-
rangement.
It was very evident that no clumsy
'janitor" or porter" had the care OF
that room, but q woman's hand gave to
1t it's aspect of bright, cheerful neat
ness and comfort. For an undeniable
proof, not very far from the easel sat a
pretty little sewing chair and @ foot
stool covered with fanciful embroidery
beside 1t. Moreover, small foot,
dressed In the neatest OF slippers, was
at that very time crushing down the
worsted roses and heart D. ease OF the
little ottoman; and In the chair sat the
tidiest, bonniest little lady housekeeper
that ever hourished a buster or jingled
bunch of keys. Such bright, cheerful
brown eyes she had such neatly ar
ranged, shining brown hair; such u
clear, healthy complexion. and rosy,
smiling lipsl That bright face and trim
little figure made picture In them
selves not out OF place in the artists
studio; and 80 he seemed to think him
self as he turned round from his easel
and watched her silently for moment.
Maggie" he exclaimed suddenly,
as he arrived at this conclusion. II
want model"
500 you p" Maggie looked up sauci-
ly. well, Ii you want model Of q
good houskeeper, q neat seamstress, and
the best sister in the world, you haven't
far to look, brother Williel I'm at your
service"
''Hold yonr tongue, Vanity" the
young man answered 1--WE looked for
such model till despair Of finding it,
and now I'm looking for just the oppo-
site-a Cinderella"
THAT stupid Cinderella You haven't
got at that again ?" Maggie exclaimed.
TALK about a woman's fckleness. /
wonder how many times you've said,
first you would, and then you wouldn't
finish that pictured Oh, you immacu-
late lords OF creationl"
Don't be saucy, Maggie; it's con-
with you. / suppose,
that makes me unstable In all my
ways But now I'm quite determined
to finish this Cinderella that Is, II can
find model for my heroine. That's
the only reason why / haven't finished
1t long ago. can't find or invent face
that pleases me for her"
why won't do?" Maggie asked, de-
murely.
"You-nonsensel You're altogether
too happy and contented looking, and
entirely too well dressed"
But have dress equal to anything
Cinderella ever wore, and could put on
the most miserable face in the world 7"
Maggie said. laughing.
II think l see you'll" her brother an
swered. "No, Miss Maggie, I'll paint
you for little Mabel in the woods:
"'Look only said another,
At her little gown Of blue,
At her kerchef pinned about her head
And her tidy, little shoe!"
But must look further for nv Cinde-
rella. She must have cloud Of golden
curls-no such smooth. brown braids as
yours-and tender, violet eyes, sorrow
full and wistful, yet with childish eager
ness in them. Figure, half woman,
half child; face, a dream Of tender,
saddened, sorrowful loneliness.
"Hear the president of the National
Academy Maggie cried, gayly. WAS
ever such a Cinderella pictured? Ny
most eloquent and poetical president,
success to your search for her!"
''I'm going to look for her now," said
the artist. "Good-by, Miss Maggie, and
have my pallet all ready when 1 come
back with her."
Mr.. Wilston Barstow, Prospective
president ofathe National Academy" as
Maggie sauclly styled him, donned his
feeling comfortably protected against
the sharp north wind that was careering
about the streets-peeping under their
shawls and searching shabby out-at-
elbow great coats for good place to
bite-started out for walk, He had
no particular object in view. unless ex-
ercise, maybe but he felt too idle to
paint that morning, and had, besides, a
sort OF romantic idea Of hunting up
Cinderella for his favorite picture. 1t
was one begun long time ago-a SIM
PIC ClluCkCllcb c1Lo ACL
fitting her up for the ball. But the ar
fist had made it sort Of pet for his
leisure hours, painting on it at intervals
only, and laying it aside as often as duty
or fancy led to something else. 1t was
finished now, all but the figure Of the
heroine, and this had been painted in
and painted out number Of times, for
he never could satisfy himself with his
labor. He could not give expression to
his idea, and nowhere could he see such
a face as he wanted.
He bad almost forgotten his picture in
other thoughts Weakened by the sight Of
the want and suffering around him, a nd
was wandering on in altogether too alb
stracted manner for busy city street,
bordering vaguely some grand plan for
making all these poor wretches COM
Portable and happy. In the midst of his
4indino himself COMING in collision with