Bennington semi-weekly banner. (Bennington, Vt.) 1894-1902, 1894-12-21
QUEEN OF BOHEMIA.

We were seated in one of the rooms OF
pretty Partisan cafe. 1t was a luxuriously
furnished apartment arranged with ex-
treme taste My companion was a specu-
lator on the bourse, a man with exhaust
i've knowledge of the boulevards. AS we
were waiting for an order to be placed be-
fore us / casually scrutinized the apart
ment. Behind us was large mirror, and
written upon it with diamond ring was
the word Julie" Putting at a cigarette,
Involuntary came feeling of curiosity.
Who was Jelie? That word was written
In an attractive feminine hand. In what
particular field of Bohemia had she movedf
The cafe was frequented almost exclusive
ly by painters, sculptors, musicians and
members of the theatrical profession whose
names were familiar to the public l
called the attention of my companion to
the inscription and asked him who Julie
was, but he replied that the lady had flour
ished before his time, since he had seen
the writing on the mirror when, 90 years
before, he had first come to Paris. The
waiter placed before us an appetizing re-
past, and my friend, in the diverting man
ner of his countrymen, launched forth
with an interesting criticism Of current
topics while we enjoyed the good fare for
which the proprietor of the place was
famed.
The next day took a trip up the Seine
and stopped for dinner at a little eating
house which, from time immemorial, had
been rendezvous of artists. The rosy
checked waiter placed a small bottle Of
wine before me on a table, in which were
carved as many letters as though the place
were a resort for college students. There
were many famous names engrossed there,
and the proprietor pointed to them with
pride, recalling the time when these art
lists were unknown and led the happy,
careless life Of bohemians, who had cop
per instead of silver and gold jingling in
their pockets. Suddenly my attention was
called to a word carved there-"Julie
"Who is Julie?" l asked.
The proprietor replied that the name
was placed there by an artist, now re
nowned and led me to room where
many rough pencil sketches were framed.
This collection he priced highly, as well
he might, for there in caricature and other
wise were seen the faces of men and wOm-
en- who had caused a furore not only in
Paris, but throughout the world of art.
Among them was the portrait of girl,
vivacious and charming. l fixed her fca-
lures in my mind. Such was the second
step in delving into bit of the past in
Bohemia.
This delightful girl appeared in a new
role soon. l was looking over some old
canvascs in a junkshop when, 10 and be-
hold, came across what was undoubtedly
an unfinished Coulter. Moreover, the face
was that Of Julie. The master had painted
her in the garb Of a peasant or perhaps he
had met her before she came to Paris and
only painted a bit of nature. She was
alone in the fields, and the majesty of the
pose and the remarkable grace and
strength of the figure were quite charac-
teristic of the great artist. Julie in the
fields was very different from Julie in the
boulevards. Around her was the quiet of
eventide. In the distance was the outline
of a house which was the dwelling of a
peasant. Here, however, was "A cue, and
asked many French painters whom ] had
met incidentally if they had ever seen the
original of my painting, for l purchased
the sketch from the proprietor of the shop
for mere nothing. But many of the old
artists pupils could not recall the face of
the girl. Purely out of curiosity l largely
pursued the investigation just to see how
easily queen of Bohemia may be by the
world forgotten and pass out of sight Clto.
gether.
Besides, here, thought, was the oppor-
tunity for a little romanco-the life Of
Julie, whose name was carried from one
generation to another in these resorts of
talented people. Sometimes in studying
the works of art of an epoch of painting
one face may be seen appearing and reap
pearing, the features of some favorite like
Julie, who might have charmed Titan and
his friends or Raphael and his disciples.
Everywhere we turn in the old galleries
this memory of the past confronts us.
Now it is a Madonna, then a Magdalene,
but the observer knows it is a real person,
or one who has lived, who looks out from
all these canvases and he wonders what
tales of Bohemia in those golden days of
art might be unfolded if those lips could
speak. So in many places glimpses Of
Julie were seen. a charming statuotte re-
vealed her in vivacious mood. She was
one of the figures in ballroom scene.
Upon celebrated monument an unmis-
taxable likeness to her features looked
down benignly. Her personality seemed
to be thoroughly imbeddcd in the art Of
Paris.
One day while in a large gallery dis
covered a grewsomo scene at the moTgue
"a young girl lying upon the marble slab.
1t was a magnificent work, but startling
in It's realism, and yet it belonged to that
period of FTonCh art when realism was in
its infancy. But chill went through me
when l recognized the features of the
young girl who figured so prominently in
the art of the day. Was this the Julie Of
whom De Musset sang or several promi-
nent novelists wrote-nOt disseCted, for
they did not dissect people in a literary
manner in those refreshing days? Th- at
tendant at the museum told his little story
about the picture and the painter.
1T was painted from life !" he said 1T
was an actual episode"
"Who was she?'
1--WE don't know that"
One day while strolling through ono Of
the pretty cemeteries 1 came to grave
marked by plain stone. Julie" it said
"Who she was is known to her friends
When she died will be remembered by
them. When she was born we do not
know. Enshrined in the hearts of poets
artists and sculptors are written her vir-
tues. What does it matter to others?"
And that was as far as l ever went in
my investigation.-Detr Free Press.
nk