The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1878-02-23
" But, your Eminence-

Dut, your Emlnence-
Give me no excuses; tell me no lies.
How much? and bring the painter"
Five thousand scudi would be a trife
for it"
HIM! And how much of that does
the painter get?"
"Oh, good price, your Eminence;
good price"
Yes; good Tor you. Basta, / know
you. Well, bring the painter to-mor-
row." and the Cardinal coolly set the
picture aside among his latest acquired
treasures.
"But if the painter won't come, your
Eminence"
"Nota word. The painter must come,
or your money won't come"
The disconnected dealer made bow.
and tiptoed out backward.
The next day, at the appointed hour,
he appeared, and with manner highly
mysterious, announced that he had
brought the painter; but the painter
was shy about being known, and had
come yelled. His Eminence would not
intrude upon the reserve of "a
A woman!" exclaimed the Cardinal,
as he caught sight of slight yelled fig
ure gliding in behind Luigi; "a woman,
and great painter Corpo di-I mean,
Santa Maria! do not wish, signora,"
he said, respectfully, "to rudely break your
incognita; but will you tell me, as | ara
a connoisseur in art, how you have ar
rived at the peculiar delicacy of these
flesh tints? How have you prepared
your canvass"
She took up the picture and frayed
corner on the back of the stretcher.
1T is painted on silk, your Eminence."
Silk, but what what sort of silk ?'
GA very fine stocking. Here is the
foot, not cut off, but nailed upon the
stretcher. See."
GA silk stockingw The Cardinal, at
the first word the woman uttered, start
ed, looked surprised, then dazcd; but he
forgot neither his dignity nor his habit
of command, and imperatively ordered
Luigi out of the room. That worthy
made his exit rapidly under so stern an
eye. When the Cardinal turned once
more to the woman, she had dropped her
veil, and he saw pale but noble face,
with eyes that looked straight into his.
In an instant he caught it to his breast.
Beatricel my darling, my lost, my
loving little BeatriceW
1t was, indeed, Beatrice, in poor and
shabby dress, but with the light of genius
and the calm of experience enhancing
her former beauty. She had been strug-
CLING in all these years to earn bread for
herself; and even for this picture she
found it so hard to buy a proper canvas
that she had used the delicate stocking
the cause of all her troubles-that in the
distraction of her grief she had used to
wipe away her tears, and so had brought
it from home with her years before.
For once the Cardinal dropped on his
knees with all his heart in the alteration.
They rehearsed the story. He told her
that though his temper was reused, he
never dreamed of casting her off. She
did not tell him what sorrow had really
driven her away. Being woman, so
much confidence could not be expected
of her. They both asked forgiveness
for having been harsh, she for having
made him suffer by her flight. He was
so like a mother when her lost baby is
brought home that all the Cardinal
seemed to disappear for awhile; but
soon the old dictatorial way came again,
and Beatrice was not sorry, for it brought
badk the pleasant old times.
81 was right, though, my child;
Psthetically l was right 1t was the
vulgarity OF extravaganza; but believe
the prince was rascal"
As to the prince, I've forgotten him
long ago. But is the stocking now fit for
princess?"
"a princess! It's too good for an
empress. 1t is fit for my great gallery"
The Cardinal is dead but the glory of
his extravaganza lives after him in his
art treasures. Whether those sentiments
about the matter of the stockings were
genuine, or whether be saw a good way
to get rid of the prince, whose motives
he may have suspected, the shrewd old
man never divulged, and even Beatrice
! never knew.
Beatrice and her husbands young
painter with whom she had studied her
art-received from the Cardinal dowry
that the Prince, still minated and still
deep in debt, looked on GENEROUSLY.
The curious and delicate painting on
silk may be seen conspiciously placed at
the south end of the great gallery If it
were not that Beatrice still lives-one of
the most accomplished, beautiful, anna
BILE women in Europe, whose works often
adorn the Paris sdlOJa-it would be fair
to name names, so that any traveller
might easily find the lovely little picture
whose true history is so little known.
Still less, probably, is known about
those forty-seven pairs of stockings re-
turned, for which the French manufac-
turers could not extort payment from the
determined old Cardinal. The truth is
they are being gradually scattered all
over the world. Every now and then,
for instance, when some rich American
bride is purchasing her wedding gar
ments, the cunning manufacturers have
a way of introducing one or two pairs to
her notice, which find their way into her
trousseau at slightly reduced price.
In fact, there is a firm conviction, based
on pregnant facts, that the remaining pair
will be gotten rid of on this side of the
water.-Harper's Weekly.
A Wrong-Font Oyster.
Scene in South Side oyster house
A certain well-known printer (whom we