The Forrest City times., 1891-08-28

this extraordinary young girl when they finished the perusal of her more extraordinary journal reckoned with out their host. Her journal was mere drop in the bucket as compared to the amount of material she left behind. Marie Bashkirtseff must have spent the greater part of her life pen in hand Not only did she keep journal from the age of five, but she wrote letters to every one she knew. and to a great many whom she did not lInow-and she took copies, not with letter press and damp paper, but in her own handwriting, of every letter that she wrote. You may judge that she was kept busy, and yet she found time to learn several languages, to play upon number of musical instruments, to read quantities of books. and to paint with a cleverness that would have won her fame If that coveted reward had not been more quickly won with her pen. That her handwriting is little more than a scrawl is no wonder. How she found time to push her pen across the page, let alone to form words, is a mystery, even to those of us who have had journalistic training.
 Originality. should say, was one of her strongest qualities; daring another. Whatever else we may say about Marie Bashkirtsetf we will have tc aclxnowl- edge her precocitv and her magnetism. She died at twenty-three and left Il journal and several letters behind her, and her name is a househould word. There is no evidence of her having written herself out in these letters. They are as bright as the journal but not always as thoughtful. and very sell dom refer to the state of her health.
 There was not much reverence in
 Marie's nature. To her the Venus de
 Medici was "a doll" and Dante, the
 "long-nosed." Besides her letters to
 her family and friends Mile. Bashkirt-
 self was fond of writing to famous
 men whom she know only by reputa-
 tion. Usually these were written
 over an assumed name, With Alexan-
 der Dumas she carried on quite Il
 lengthy correspondence. The freedom
 of this sort of writing delighted her
 and it did no harm to any one. Marie $
 aunt seems to have made great pet of
 her and, with her mother. done her best to spoil the child. Nearly all her
 letters to her aunt are requests for money. Here is one in rhyme-surely o htptet ot d bSSkIAR ieittE. The eldest of the graoes three Is plunged in dlrest misery If your charitable soul. Of great things capable. her dole Will pity, as hope, believe That every franc you shall receive Again with interest when I'm queen My soul that shrinks from all things mean, And my splendor-loving heart Lose their freshness. as a tart In this pltifal hotel
 Wherefore, most advisable. My dropping spirits to revive. In the Rois daily drive At tho evening hour 10 be, Dear aunt, you surely will agree. But gowns, for this, and carriages Are indispensable. and these. With an empty exehequer, How alas, providef Give ear, pray, 10 my petition then. And send me money, which agaiu will return. when am queen
 To Dumas she wrote in this way: ''I am told that, like every self-re- specting divinity. you are enveloped in
 a cloud which makes you regard the l inhabita nts of the earth with indiffer- | ence.
 ''I do not believe this. for the cloud in question is generally only d fog which gathers around the minds of of hose who are growing old: and l you. monsieur, can never grow old" 1 Then she goes on to tell him that she | has a favor to ask which is that he be her father confessor' and pegs him
 to drop her line to the postoftice of 1 the Madeline to say whether or no he
 will attend a ball to be given at the l ppera house