St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1892-01-03
LOUISE ON A RANCH.
A Soubrette Who Talks of Life in
the WOolIY West.

thC "OOi1J ~ CSts
Louise Beaudet, of the Casino, arises
to explain. More in sorrow than in
anger she declares that she never had,
never will have and never wants to
have any intention of leaving the stage
for a ranch in the wild and woollyWeSt.
Miss Beaudet also remarks penSiveIy
that she thinks she knows when she is
we'll off, says the New York World.
Having said this, and set your mind
at rest, Miss Beaudet shakes her bangs
out of her eyes cuddleS comfortably
down in the corner of divan, and takes
you into her confidence, like the nice
little girl she is.
Yes, she has ranch-a magnificent
affair, away out in Montana, Oh the
banks of the Big Blackfoot river and
less than two miles from certain little
town which shall be nameless. She has
1000 acres of land, four houses, an aW-
full lot Of cattle and forty cowboys,
three of whom are sons of gentlemen.
And once-this with an opening of big
eyes and lowering of soft voice
ence, she went out to that ranch and
loved there for three months!
That was two years ago, but often
now when she falls asleep she finds her.
self galloping over the plains again,
with the whoops of cowboys sounding
in her ears, the eXhilarating air of the
West filling her lungs and heart like
thistledown in her breast. Or perhaps
she is alone-and far off against the
horizon she sees line of Indians NOV
ing swiftly.
Again 1t may be an interior" she
sees.
She is in the center of the room,
guitar in hand, singing to the natives,
and no every-night spectators in the
front row are more appreciative or adj
miring than theSe-particularly the
three who are the sons of gentlemen.
Yes, it is hard to wake up and find
ones self among the unromantic sur
roundingS of New York hotel, and at
such moments she longs for the ranch.
But not to live thereof. no. never!
In this quaint little town there is
certain hall, to which the native and the
cowboy and the maiden of the plains HE
themselves to dance. Here Miss Beau
Diet HE'D. too. sometimes, and when she
did she owned the hall and the natives
and the maidenS aud the musicians and
the lights-aye. and the town itself.
And the forty cowboys acted as es-
cort. together with the three who were
the sons of gentlemen.
AT regular and irregular intervals
round the hall were candles which shed
impartially light and tallow upon the
guests. Placed Eere and there where
they would do the most good, where
bows and arrows and guns and ears
of corn and the occasional scalp
of an Indian-all in the way
of decoration and to add to the
festive scene. On the pine board
running one length of the hall sat the
bellies fthe country round-red-cheek
and calicoed maidens on whom the cow
boys cast side glances. Over in one
corner was the Pooh-bah of the oc-
casion, who scraped the cracked violin,
called off the figures, introduced bash
full couples and separated the young
men when little differences of opinion
occurred.
In the midst of this hall and this
quaint assembly came sometimes the
little Casino sOubrette, and with a nod
at the old man and a smile at the young
ones gave them a dance such as we see
i'll New York.
AS she danced the circle closed
around her-the cowboys, the maidens,
the natives and those who are the sons
of gentlemen, silent, watchful, breath
less. And when she flnished-weil. she
didn't tell all this, but one can see the
decorations drop and the roof lifted by
the rOars Of delighted plainSmen-not
all of whom were the sons of gentlemen.
But more sincere applause than this
you know you'll never get, Louise.
There is a reverse side to the picture,
of course. She didn't like the "round-
ups" and seeing the cattle branded hurt
her much. And once-she shot an ante
lope! She could never have done it i'm
cold blood, but they were all out to-
gether-she and others of a hunting
party-and she was excited and the
thing was done before she knew it,
AS she is dead shot, of course that
was the end of the antelope, and the
animal showed its insight into the stu
alton by dying promptly and without
making any unnecessary fuss about it.
She has the head mounted now, and it,
with rattlesnake's skin and a prairie
dog, is in her private collection on the
ranch. There were Sleighing parties
out West, too. and barn-warmingS and
serenadeS, when the boys split the
ambiant midnight air under her win
dows.
1t was all very pleasant-but New
York Is pleasant, too. and she's not 60
ing back. There are many she would
like to see. The old fiddler, the girl
from Jones', who stood six feet tall
and had red hair and always wore
pink calico s--and-perhaps''-
1.-THE sons of gentlemen?'
The two women. actress and Journal
ist, looked at each other and smiled.
well, yes" said the former slowly,