Maryland independent. [volume] (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1874-current, 1883-05-11
MISS VAN ARsDALE

Of Egypt, was good to look at in the
eyes Of man and she lived way up in
Vermont avenue, in a blood-red
Elizabethan palace, all gables and
stained glass and olive-shingled porches
"a structure where high art ragged
rampant, where everything that wasn't
old English was intensely Japanese,
and everything that wasn't Japanese
was old English, except Mr.. Van
Arsdale, who was intensely Dutch in
stead.
Down by the "Flats" there is a
horribly dingy yard that slopes to the
fostering river. Not a nice place to
look at, with the green slime and snaky
weeds for ever before ones ewes. and
the odor of death for ever in ones
nostrils, but a nice place to own for
mines OF coal and forests of wood had
found their way there. to be turned
into gold at the Midas touch of Mr.
! Van Arsdale's fingers.
Miss Van Arsdale carried her dim
Piles and diamonds to parties. and came
home tricked off like a Comnncbe
warrior, with twenty german fayors
dangling at her belt --favors that
lmeant--ah, biiss!L twenty stab-thrusts
for the twenty "disengageds,'' who
watched with laughing eyes and bleed
ing vanity as she won her trophies in
the dane.
Miss Van ArsdaIe considered herself
musical, and though society hkened
her register to the still, small voice of
conscience, and paid its oyations in
Difference of Mr.. Van Arsdales notes,
rather than those of his daughters, she
placidly accepted the delicious false
hoods it lavished upon her and went
on singing worse than ever.
Miss Van Arsdale painted impossible
pink roses on severely green stems, and
society called her BOnheur. What
likeness could be traced between her
stitf-necked BLOSSOMS and Berkshire
cattle even she was puzzled to dis
cover; but she took it all in good faith,
and revenged herself on society by
painting plaques for her friends.
Society can stand great deal of
dust in its eyes-gold dust-hut when
it praised Miss Van Arsdale's clover
pink cheeks and big, wonderful eyes
German blue they were, with silver
llickers in them-it honestly meant
every word that it said for she was
absolutely beautiful, from a dressy
point Of view
Mr.. Van Arsdale was nOt-indeed,
there was nothing beautiful about Mr..
Van Arsdale, except his love for his
only child-a love in which society
could pick but single flaw, and the
queens big diamond has twol
He was a shabby little millionaire,
plain of feature and shy Of speech. His
hands were as brown and dry as the
chips in his own yard, and you were
pretty sure if one scratched him he
wouldrun sawdust instead of blood. He
was so old as to look quite moldy, and
his clothes, in point of age, were GER
tainly entitled to a vote.
When his daughter demanded her
palace and set up fur-caped coach
man he gave her the money with all
his heart: but when, as a disastrous
consequence, she handed him over to
tailor to do with as fashion or
dained, so little did he appreciate the
hcternal fitness of the tn ngs given him
to wear, that he returned to what one,
Eat stretch, might term the friends of
his youth, and went about his business
IN hopeless state of revolt.
p. When he did not spend his evenings
ut his dismal Office in the woodward
with another shabby old millionaire
ETho owned the wharf alongside, or at
~ Abner's," he generally managed to
fTorry through the time at home,
hough it was dull enough with Min
Arva always away. He was a patient
4 little man, however, and would wait
Up with an almost childish wistfulness
Just to get careless kind goodnight
rom his daughter as she flashed up
Lhe oaken stairs.
Girls don't mean harm, they only do
lit. Miss Van Arsdale loved her father,
ST course, but he knew better than to
presume upon the relationship, and as
I be never expected her to put her young
arms around his neck, or kiss his
usVithered lips, he wasn't disappointed
because she failed to do it.
v Society was quite in the middle OF
tets greatest ball. and Miss Van Ars-
hale, in cream satin and big diamonds
laming in her ears. was singeing moths
10 her hearts content, when the omln-
r,pus news came that Mr.. Van Arsdale
Aad been taken i'll downtown and
brought home dying in cab.
Restless eyes staring at everything
and see ng nothing palsed fingers and
twitchinr lips-was this her father I!
Miss Van Arsdale's pride fell from
her like Cinderella's rags, and Durylng
her face in the pillow h sobbed with
the willful grief of child.
eff you do not stop crying Ike
I'm