The herald., 1896-06-19
THE LOST CRAVAT
Vhen I arrival at payis. 7 xvaa poe

very lightly. Sometimes did not break
East at all, and I often, as our English
friends say, dined with Duke Humphrey.
A werthy shopkeeper in the country
town from which came wrote to me, out
Of the goodness Of his heart, and gave me
An order to make copy Of Teniers. At
Dnoe, full OF ardor, hastened to the great
gallery of the Louvre. From the first day
did good work. That was thus going
TO earn some money made me work. but
the pleasure I experienced in copying a
favorite picture made me work quickly
and we'll.
Ah, the pictures of Teniersl What SEN
sations they awakened in my being, these
plump and rubicund cheeks, the laughter
their jolly noses into their tankards. There
was no sentiment Of envy aroused in me
in gazing upon their pictured merriment.
The third morning after my task had
begun repaired to the Louvre. Just as I
was about to enter tho ofi1cious guardian,
in his green and gold uniform, made me
an agltated sign, carrying his hand to his
neck. ! remembered having seen the same
gesture at the theater. Don't you remem-
ber that when Don Caesar de Bazan hears
the news that he Is going to bo hanged he
puts his hand to his neck and feels Of 1t as
II he already felt the fatal cordp Just SO
gestioulated the green and gilt guardian.
stared at him stupidity and then looked
around me. Anybody In sightP Coming
around the corner was young woman,
but she was invisible to him. There was
nobody else. Evidently to me this fune-
real gesture was addressed. did not un.
derstand him and therefore crossed the
threshold. I had scarce assembled three
steps of the staircase when a loud cry re-
sounded behind me, "Stop-you have no
crayat."
Initiating the gesture of Don Caesar dc
Bazan, carried my hand to my neck.
Alas, 1t was truei had lost my cravat.
Don't laugh. didn't laugh. 1t was
my only oravat. It was one Of those cheap
black knots that are fastened around the
collar button with q rubber band. Five
minutes before entering the courtyard Of
the Louvre had stopped in the Rue de
Rivoli, gazed at myself in a shop window
mirror and had adjusted my cravat
Alas had done more than adjust my
cravat-I had lost it.
"It's against the rules" said the guard
AoA ooNoIOiy, W poiAhio nAy ouo w OAOoE
the gallery without a cravat.''
Well, he was right. There must be rules
in the great galleries, and while they will
admit shabby people they will not admit
people In rags, in their shirt sleeves or
without cravats.
At this moment the lady who had been
rounding the corner passed near me.
felt myself growing red and pale at once,
and turned in the direction of my guard
Ian in order to look away from the pretty
visitor, who, as she passed, brushed me
with her silken gown. She wore the pret-
test little blue cravat around her neck
that one could imagine. Yes; 1 couldn't
help but notice it in looking out Of the
corner of my eye at her white neck.
stood there stunned. Tho guardian
enjoyed my CONSERVATION. He was happy
In this moment he exercised the exalted
pleasure Of authority. A policeman who
orders you to "move on" experiences the
same secret Joy. 1t is that feeling doubt
less which actuated Caesar and Napoleon.
remained there for some minutes, gaz-
ing at this little great man. had moth
ing in my wardrobe that resembled in
slightest degree q cravat, and I had not a
penny about me with which to buy one.
To whom could 1 address myself was
from the country. 1 knew no one in
Paris. had no comrades from whom 1
could borrow o knot of ribbon. What a
humiiationl And yet, above in the gal
lery the wassailers were waiting for me,
laughing and drinking under the grape
arbor.
left the vestibule. entered the great
square of the Louvre and crossed it me-
chanically. Yet as I did so felt instinc-
bot
me. OWNED that it was a woman, and
that it was the woman whom I had met in
the door and who had turned and rede-
scended the staircase at the moment of my
misadventure. Why had she followed mee
Had not turned my face in order to avoid
her glancep Heaven preserve us from in
quisitive people.
She overlook me. 1t was in truth the
lady of the staircase. She stopped in front
Of me, looking at me tiniidly, with a
charming embarrassment. She seemed
moved and troubled. But, said to my
self, what has become of the pretty ribbon
she just wore around her neck? Her hands
were buried in rich muff. AS she stopped
and looked at me, she withdrew one of her
hands from tho muff. saw in her fingers
the light blue silk oravat ornamented at
its ends with white lace. can entrance
ticket" said she to me In half whisper,
and she hurried away.
Hero the artist stopped and meditated
long.
"You followed her, supposes' asked
his friend.
II never dreamed of it for moment.
The wassailers Of Teniers were waiting
for me.''
"And you entered the Louvre in blue
cravat with lace endsP''
"Without the least affectation, without
false shame, and perhaps with certain
pride as triumphantly passed the green
and gold guardian at the door,
"And you found her some day some-
where, this pretty woman, at the seaside,
In the mountains, in society? Nor But
you are mHrried-did she not become your
wife9''
II did not say" said the painter dryly.
"But your story is not finished"
81 am painter, my dear boy. I finish
pictures, but never knew how to finish
story. y."-Brooklyn Citizen.
A Wonderful Shawl.