Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1891-09-26

jewels. also begged that no more sttentions
Of similar nature should be inflicted upon
me: With my next bouquet came a small
sealed note, bearing no date or sigma
Why You should object to receivine the riffs 1
have sent to you. am old; / am one Of tbs
| richest men in New York: my family is very
small and deprive no one in giving to Won. I
have no wife or daughters; admire your
beauty and your ART Jewels and lover sre
becoming TO you. You should wear roses eyerv
night and diamonds increase your GOOD
looks Don't be foolish, but let me crafty .
within 90 long as no one suffers thereby.
would refuse to know you If the opportunity
offered, SO have no fear on that score. I am
not an actress worshper but am very fond
of going to the theater where you perform and
like to see you looking your very best Dia-
monds and roses belong to you. Wear the
ones send and say nothing more about it,
"Now, don't you think that old fellow must
pc insane? No. really, really have never met
HIM, and-well l do still get jewels from him,
but how car help myself"
THE TENOR SINGER AND THE MATINEE GIRL.
The lovely tenor singer at one OF the city
theaters has been entertaining an angel un-
awares for some time past. The angel is q
blonde-haired, blue-eyed matinee girl, who has
sat enraptured under the spell Of the tenor Q
presence on many occasions tingling with the
rapture induced by his youthful beauty and
ton. The tenor In question 10 n slender
man, Rlbeit his lower limbs are OF sturdy
dimensions and curviiinear grace. In the
tights that he wore those limbs Of the tenor
we're OF degree of beauty that WAS sure to call
out the most emphatic encomiums from some
one so fmpressionable as a matinee girl. This
young lady had often noted the extreme
grace OF these limbs, and was sure that no
other man walked the earth upon such thor
oughly artistic UNDERMINING.
A las aft oh lob g.,
the matinee girl decided that she must view
the tenor from close quarters, and she
knew OF no way to do SO but to stand
at the stage door and gaze upon him
as he came forth after the opera. This she did
one Saturday afternoon. Her heart palpitated
with anticipation at the thought OF looking
upon the charming young man in his street
clothes and hearing his voice as, perchance,
he uttered some phrase of his own coming. At
last he came. She knew him by his mastache.
He was, to be sure, not stylish figure in his
conventional garments, but his mustachs was
as lovely as ever. As he stepped from the
door to the sidewalk he was Joined BY man
who was, all unknown to the matinee girl, the
stag, manager Of the theater. This latter in
dividual addressed the tenor in somewhat au-
thoritative tones
why" said he, "did you wear those long
boots in the last act today You must know that
you haven't the right to take liberties Of that
sort with your makeup. You are 10 wear
feshings in that act"
The tenor turned toward the stage manager
with sad face and replied: 'well, it's jus,
here: l can't stand my pads in this sort OF
weather, and you'll either have to let me wear
nigh boots or go on in my own legs"
Upon hearing this the heart of the matinee
girl almost stopped beating. She could not be-
lieve she had heard Alright. She knew there
were such things as pads, but surely her tenor
did not wear them. Her doubts. however,
were set at rest by the next words Of the stage
manager.
well. said he, "the boots are entirely out
OF place in the part, 30 if You can't stand the
pads you'll have to get a new pair OF heshings
and show your bones"
And instantly there was one matinee girl less
In the world. These little things knock all the
sentiment out Of a maiden's heart.