Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1896-08-22

"Her name is Sibyl vane."
"Never heard Of her"
N one has. People will somo day, how
ever. She is a genius
MY dear boy, no woman is n genius
women are q decorative Sex. They never
have anything to say, but they say II charm
tngly. They represent the triumph OF
matter over mind, just as we men represent
The triumph Of mind over morals. There
are only two kinds Of women, the plain and
the colorcd. The plain women are very
useful. If you want 10 gain q reputation
Tor responsibility, you have merely to take
them down to supper, The other women
are very charming. They commit one mis-
take, however. They paint in order 10 try
10 look young. Our grandmothers painted
IN order TO try to talk brilliantly. Rouoc
ana esprit used to go together. That has all
gone out now. AS long as n woman can
look ten years younger than her own
daughter, she is perfectly satisfied. As for
conversation, there are only five women in
Lonuon worth talking to, and two of these
amt be admitted into decent society. How
aver tell me about your genius. How long
hare YOU known herr"
About three weeks. Not so much. About
two weeks and two days"
"How did you come across herlr
u Will tell yon, Harry; but Won mustn't
90 unsympathetic about il. After all n
never would have happened If I had not
net you. You filled me with n wild dosi,o
20 Know everything about life. For dova
iiter ! mel YOU, something seemed TO
hrop IN my veins. AS ! louugcd in the
park or strolled down the Piccadilly, | used
% look AT every one who passed me and
wonder with u mad curiosity what sort of
ives they led. Some of them fascinated
ne. Others filled me with terror. There
was an exquisite poison in the air. had a
passion for sensations.
zone evening about seven O'Clock T do
termincd to 70 out in search of soma al
venture. ] felt that this CAV. monstrous
London of ours, with its myriads Of people
is splendid sinners, and its sordid sins as
you once said, must have something in storo
FOR me. l fancied a thousand things mo
mere danger gave inc a sense Of delight. 7
remembered what YOU had said 10 mo on
that wonderful night when we first dincd
together, about the search for beauty being
The poisonous secret Of life. | don't know
what l expected, but went out and wan
Tered eastward, soon losing my way in a
labyrinth OF grimy streets and black, grass.
ess squares. About half past eight | passed
by little third-rato thcater, with great
laring gas-jets and gaudy play-bills. A
hideous jew, in the most amazing waistcoat
ever beheld in my life, was standing at
the entrance, smoking u vile cigar. lie had
greasy ringlets, and an enormous diamond
blazcd in the center Of a soiled shirt. ave
a box, my lordf he said, when he saw me.
and he took of his hat with an act of cor.
gcous civllity. There was something about
him that amused me. He was such "A monster.
You will laugh at me, ] know, but | went in
and paid "A whole guinea for a stage. box
To the present day ! can't make out why |
did so; and yet IL ! hadn'tl-my dear
Harry, II | hadn't, would have missed tho
greatest romance of my life. | see you are
laughing. 1t is horrid of you"
II am not laughing, Dorian; at least I am
not laughing at you. But you should not
say the greatest romance of your life.
You should say the first romance Of your
life. You will always be loved, and YOU
will always be in love with love. There are
exquisite things in store for you. This is
Hlcrtly INC DcRnnlnp.
ID you think my nature so shallow"
cried Dorian, angrily.
mo ] think your nature so deep"
"How do you mean!"
'My dear boy, people who only love once
In their lives are really shallow people:
what they call their fidelity, ! call either the
lcthargy Of custom or the lack of imagina.
ton. FaithlcsSness Is 10 the emotional life
what consistency is 10 the intellectual life
$ SIMPLY a confession Of failure. But | don't
want 10 interrupt you. Go on with your
s ory."
well ; found myself seated in n horrid
little private box, with a vulgar drop-scene
staring mo in the face. | looked out behind
the curtain, and viewed the house. /: vas
a tawdry affair, all cupids and cornucopias,
like a third-rate wedding-cakc. The gallery
and pit were fairly full, but the two rows OF
dingy stalls were quite empty, and there
was hardly a person in what ! suppose they
called the drcss-circle. Women went about
with oranges and gingcr-becr, and there
was n terrible consumption Of nuts going
on"
1T must nave been like the palmy days
of British drama"
Just like, | should fancy, and very
horrid. ] began t0 wonder what on earth !
should do, when | caught sight of the play.
bill. What do you think the play was,
Harry
Il should think Tho Idiot Boy: or. Dumb
but Innocent Our fathers used 10 like
that sort of piece, | believe. The longer ]
live, Dorian, the more kecnly | feel tina,
y.batnv,r y,uu rood aYpIIFl, for, nur fothara
is not good enough for us. In art, as in
politics, les Wdndperes ont toujouTs tort"
'This play was good enough for us.
II was Romeo and Juliet ] must admit !
was rather annoyed at the idea Of seeing
Shakespeare done in such a wrctched hole OF
a place. Still, | felt interested in a sort Of a
way. At any rate | determined to wait for
the first act. There was IA dreadful orches-
ira, presided over by a young jew who sat at
a cracked piano and nearly drove me away,
but at last the drop-sccne was drawn up,
and the play began. Romeo was a stout
elderly gentleman, with corked eyebrows, n
husky voice, and a figure like a beer barrel.
Mercutio was almost as bad. He was play
ed by the low-comcdian, who had intro
duccd gags of his own and was on most
familiar terms with the pit. They were as
grotcsque as the scenery, and looked as If it
had come out of "a pantomimo of fifty years
ago. But Juliet Harry, imagine the girl,
hardly seventeen years Of age, with a little
aowcr-like face, a small Greek head with
plated coils Of dark brown hair, eyes that
were violet wells of passion, lips that were
ike the petals of a rose. She was the love-
lest thing ] had ever seen In my life. You
said TO me once that pathos left you I'M
moved, but that beauty, mere beauty, could
Ill your eyes with tears. j tell you, Harry,
[ could hardly sec this girl for the mist OF
tears that came across me. And her voice
i never heard such a voice. IT was very
low at first, with deep mellow notes, that
seemed to fall singly upon ones ear. Then
it became a little louder, and sounded like a
aute or distant hautboy. In the garden
scene it had all the tremulous ecstasy that
,ne hears just before dawn when nightin-
gales are singing. There are moments,
later on, when it had the wild passion OF
yiolins. You know how a voice can stir one.
Your voice and the voice of Sibyl zane are
two things that ] shall never forget. When
close my eyes, I hear them, and each Of
them says something different. l don't
know which to follow. Why should / not
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