Springfield daily republic. [volume] (Springfield, O. [Ohio]) 1887-1888, 1888-06-23
STORY OF A PRESENT.

June mornings In Antwerp three hun
dreS years ago were sr bright as they are
In our own land In those later times, and
young men were much the same in 1886 az
they are today The earliest worshiper
In the cool. shsdowy cathedral hurried
through his prayers. fancy. and made his
way quickly out into the sunshine Of the
Grand place and through the narrow.
crooked old streets toward his lodging in
the Rue d'0rfevres
He would be thought q singulariy de-
vout young man nowadays 10 60 to church
al ell in the early morning Of his wedding
day. but times have changed. and dare
say he was no better and no worse
than lots Of us who have not been reared
under the eternal vigilance of careful
priests or under the no less constant
watch of stone saints and Msdonnas look
ing down from every street corner shrine
he was e strapping young fellow. and a
gallant figure for a bridegroom as be
strobe slong toward the street Of the gold
smiths Now see the compelling power
of girls eyesl They had drawn Qninten
Massys from his humble anvil at Louvain.
uI 10 magnificent. queenly Antwerp.
where wealth and power and luxury vert
at their highest tide just then. TO run his
life race with other men; and not as q
blacksmith. but as an artist Frans Floris,
the famous painter. wrinkled his ragged
old brows and hoisted his shoulders up to
his ears at the idea Of q son in. law who
swung a hammer instead of welding a
brush; and the young man determined TO
show himself capable of work as worthy
TO live through years to come as anything
that even Floris could produce
So to Antwerp he came and labored for
his prize and now he had won her. and
today he was to claim his wife His
painting was praised by all the great srtis-
tic city, and even the emperor himself
had looked with approval at his work
And the favor of Charles V was q splendid
marriage portion with which to endow
the girl who had created his ambition for
him
But-human nature Is q queer thing
Quinten Massys had begun as q worker in
metal. and his heart was in the cunning
artifce of hammer and forge And so he
had made wedding present for his bride
with mis- own hands. and 1t was not the
production of a painter. but of smith
With the most loving care he had fash
ioned tiny silver box, whose double
cover showed the hand of q master. Its
outer case was elaborately beaten and
chased with the device Of the order that
the emperor had bestowed upon him, and
which he had taken for his family arms
The inner clasp was a network Of silver
cobwebs, wrought in q design that he
copied from q piece Of tapestry from
Bruges And In the tiny hollow he had
placed little ball of aromatic gum that
an Arabian merchant had brought to Ant
werp-the only city where such costly
perfumes could be sold
No thought then Of the dreadful dsys
that were comingi No hint on that bright
June morning Of the gathering cloud Of
the Inquisition. of the Spanish soldiery.
or OF the fourteen months siege that
should leave barely two-thirds Of Ant
werp's citizens to open the gates 1t last to
the Duke Of Parrnai
As the young artist and his wife came
out of the cathedral that summer after
noon into the cool shade of the gray
tower. people said 50 radiant a bride had
not trodden the stones of the Grand place
since Charles was king.
IL
The solid old houses Of Bleecker street
sheltered no happier young people. in the
year of grace 1910. than William Van
Corlear and his wife. Lucy Ellsworth had
led her lover the usual dance to which
popular girls are apt to treat their ad-
mirers. but the Dutch incapacity to give
way to encouragement conquered In the
end and ST Georges bells had rung In
their married life with so merry q peal
that its echoes had not ceased vibrating
through the five years that had passed
since the wedding day
The young husband was walking home
from his business on the afternoon Of his
anniversary and trying to think Of some
pretty trifle TO slip into his wife's hand rs
she met him at the door. For. would you
believe that this foolish young mstron.
unless kept away by accident, was sure
to be watching for her spouse and to be
the first to greet his comingf But. then.
you must remember 1t was Fifty years ago.
and at that time New Workers had not
doffed all their provincial manners.
Van Corlear paused few doors below
Dey street, at Marqusnd's, entered and
wandered from case to case. His wife
already had all the ornaments she cared
to wear What was he to selectf The
salesman finally fished out little antique
pungent box. whose cover bore q strange
coat of arms. nearly effaced by long years
of use IL many generations OF soft hands
whose dust would now scratch the
smooth silver. Here was q dainty tri1e.
surely
You will not find anything like 1t in
New York, sir" said the salesman This
was picked up at an auction Of the bric-a-
brac collected from every corner of the
world by German prince who committed
suicide last year at Monaco. think it is
the most beautiful example Of early Flem-
ish metal work that ever saw. though it
Is but trifle.
1t was quaint little box. indeed
Hardly more than an inch long and half
rs wide. of silver. at the touch of aspiring
its cover few up. showing q second hinged
cover or clasp Of intricate fligree work.
This. when closed, held In place 6uf Of
cotton. which was to be drenched in
whatever salt or essence madame chose.
The concsit struck the young man favor
ably, and he waited till It was marked, in
tiny letters on the tiny case. just In the
center of the worn old Flemish family
shield.
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