Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1894-12-29
SUPPRESSED CHAPTERS.
Giving an Account of How Trilb!
Spent Christmas.


Spent Christmas.
From Life.
1t was on the night of that famous
Christmas supper In the Place st. Anatole
des Arts. when Zouzou and the others had
sung their songs, and the three policemen
were laid out In a stupor behind the stove,
that tho Laird and Taffy and Trilby and
Little Bilee had a little conversation (as
they sat apart on the model throne eating
their plum pudding), that is not recorded
in the book.
"Ay, maum," said the Laird, but they're
making fuss about US in American
IT'S all on account Of Trilby" SAID Little
Billee. with fond look at her knuckle-
bone teeth.
"They are all palavering a lot Of TOM
my-rot about me- cut in Trilby, speaking
in her best English which she learned from
her Irish father. and which was classical,
though 1t smacked of County Cork.
Worse than that" my dear Trilby
said Taffy, whirling Svengali around his
head like an Indian club between drinks.
Lots OF pretty women over there, l am
told, are raving over you simply because
they think it is advanced and up to date
to admire a woman whom they are pleased
to think a little bit wicked"
ME wicked"' shrieked Trilby, her Irish
upland me- the best blanchisseuse de fin
in the Quarter Latin"
ut isn't the laundry work that attracts
their admiration, my lass" said the Laird
in his most fatherly manner. It's the
posing for the altogether and several
other little incidents in your career that
make you interesting for them"
oh" said Trilby, in real distress, 1--WE
been trying for months to forget all those
things and now i am to become a literary
classic on account of tbem! CTrilby
caught the fine language from the lament
ed OFerrall when he was loquacious in his
cupsl.
''The penalty of fame" said the philo-
sophie Laird, SIS to be Unfortunately
praised. and generally for the wrong thing.
l suppose that 1 shall be remembered
longer for my singing Of The Laird of
Cockpen' than for my Royal Academy pic
lures"
(which is right" growled Taffy. who
had recently come from Barbizon. THE
Royal Academy seldom confers immortal
ity on a worthy painter"
'"Those Americans don't seem to love
Trilby for the things that make us love
her." piped up Little Billee. They talk
and write a great deal about the mere ac-
cidental things in her character, but they
don't see that we all love her because she
Is simply a royal. good comrade with no
frills about herewith a mans standard
of honor which she keeps to the utter
most"
Little BiIlee," cried Trilby. reaching Cor
him with her slipper. lin the language OF
an Anne rican friend of mine. you're q
chumpr'
1.-The trouble with Billee," unused Taffy.
us that he is too high strung, and does
not take exercise enough. He is just the
sort of fellow who generally dies for love
in novels. 1t isn't nice and there Is no
need for IL in novels or real life. Five
miles day on a trotting horse will save
his life"
'Trilby will save my life" sighed Billee
with a tender glance at her freckles.
1.-The worst thing I've heard said about
our good friend, Du Maurier, who Is bound
to make US famous" said Taffy switching
away from the sentimental Billee, SIS that
he writes neither good English nor good
French, but mixture of the slang of each,
which thirty years from now will be al
most unintelligible without a glossary"
"And yet they call 1t a revival Of the
style of Thackeray!" snorted the Laird.
I'VE must not pick our friends to pieces
on Christmas night" said Taffy, rising.
What the story of our old studio Is teach
ing them ever in England and America Is
that there is nothing I'm this world 20 be
compared to the loyal conn adeship of men,
and women too who love each other as
brothers, who seize the day Of pleasure as
ii passes, and stand closer together when
the night of sorrow comes. Up all of you!
Dodor, Gecko. Zouzou-Drink the Christ
mas toast. Here's to my friend and my
brother-all mankind! (Sngs)
Drink, every one:
Pile up the Goals
Fill the red bowls,
Round the old tree!"