New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1880-01-21

Two souls IL form love but one!
-AortQ'Ms"v lAIG1 Aduerttser.
mr.. BEYEL'S HOBBY.
1t was in q quaint, old-fashioned
quarter of London that old Mr.. Bevel
lived. He had been young Mr.. Bevelin
his time, when the quarter was not so
quaint nor the street 80 shabby, though
even then the irresistible refux of fash
ion had begun to set in another direc-
ton. But gentility fingered after FASH
ion was past, and when Mr.. Bevel in
stalled his bride in her new home, the
region was still spoken of as " eminent
ly respectable. Alas, nobody called
it respectable now. The very fact of
residence there implied certain
ignominy-a fact understood and re-
sented by all the Bevel family except
its head. Even Mrs. Bevel, who, when
first transplanted thither from her
country surroundings. had looked upon
the London residence as unspeakable
promotion, regarded it now with
contemptuous disfavor, which was in
stigated and egged on by her sons and
daughters.
1T is really quite too bad" declared
Maud, the eldest-born and beauty of
the family. "pm absolutely ashamed
to let Arthur come and see me. It
might be enough to lose him his place
in society,"
Arthur was Maud's fiance, Arthur
Brook, and the society thus imposingly
alluded to consisted of his fellow-clerks
in one of the lesser public of1ices-a
limited though "stylish'' circle in the
neighborhood of Westbourne Grove,
and an oft-quoted second-cousinship to
that city magnate Peter Brook, Of
Lombard Street and Lancaster Gate,
whilom Lord Mayor of London, and a
great man in his own set. The readi-
ness OF young man so connected to
show himself occasionally in such u To-
cality as that inhabited by his lady-love
and her family could not be regarded
as less than condescension. Maud felt
it; the boys felt it; everybody felt it ex-
cept that insensible parent in whose
hands lay the power to stay and the
power to 60. Mrs. Bevel felt it also,
but she deemed it duty to protest
against Maud's remark.
my dear, you are foolish to talk 80.
Arthur is quite too sensible TO mind
where we live, am sure"
"Nothing of the sort, mamma. He
minds great deal. There is nothing
he hates like an omnibus, and cabs all
this distance are an immense expense.
de ought not to take them half so often
us he does" For all her blue, sleepy
eyes and fluff of golden hair, pretty
Maud had q keen eye for the main
chance
"Yes, and the most provoking thing
about it is that if pa would only stop
buying those ridiculous old things he
is so fond of, we could 20 where we
liked to live and like other people," re-
marked Matilda, the next girl in age,
casting look IF displeasure round the
room. 1t was hideous room, Matilda
thought, old-timy and queer; but to an
artist it would have been a treasure
trove, a very paradise of quaint and
picturesque and valuable disorder.
For old Mr.. Bevel's hobby was bric-
a-brac, and the house was stuffed with
bis acquisitions through forty years of
practice. Like all pioneers in special
lines of taste, he suffered the fate of
being regarded by his contemporaries
as little better than q maniac. With
him the taste was Unborn. He had
been q collector before his marriage.
twice q collector since. Beginning in
those early days when there were few
competitors in the art, he had worked
the rich mine thoroughly before others
became aware of its value. Little by
little his treasures had accumulated.
Armor, brasses, carved furniture,
china OF every age and style, frag-
ments of rich stuffs, of altar linen.
ancient missals and breviaries, quaint
tones in early English, worries
creamed by time to delicious yellow,
bits of bronze, OF silver, old tapestries
thread-bare and furnished but still
splendid. lace, pictures, parcnments,
spoils of cottage and cathedral and
quaint Tudor mansion-there they
were. crowding every crevice and
corner, every cupboard and closet, till
Mrs. Bevel declared that she couldn't
turn round in peace, and should in
evitably 60 crazy if one single thing
more were added to the stock. The
dusky shabbiness of the house made q
picturesque background for these an
Gent meubles, but picturesqueness
was lost in the younger Bowels, and
only shabbiness was discernible. AS
they sat there in the early twilight,
Matilda groaned for probably the
6ftieth time over the wallpaper, mel
lowed by time into a delicious mixture
of neutral tint and warm apricot,
against which the dull, superb carv-
ings of Delhi cabinet stood out re-
sIlendent, its top crowded with rare
jars. The apricot grayness was sim
ply dirt to Matilda's eyes-dull, COM
MOI, everyday wear and tear; the
cabinet was clumsy; the high-backed
Venetian chairs on either side ugly
and hard to sit on. What she longed
for was smart gilt hanging, stars,
perhaps. or polka dots-a polka dot
was 50 stylish always and 3 ..suite y
OF modem walnut and green, such as
could be had in the Tottenham Court
Road for | inc pounds and ten shillings
the eight pieces. She hated old things
The called them-and had
eyes for neither grace of form nor
charm of color which did not wear the
stamp of to-0ay's brief popularity.
Oh dearr she sighed, as her eye
ran over the a. customed objects which
to her were such unspeakable grew
ances, II fairly dread to see pa come
home. he's so sure to fetch In some
ugly thing or other to add to orr triala.