The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1896-10-04

now, in the years gone by she Willed to
him so many yards of beautiful lace to
make rufiles for his wrists and a cravatte
for hos coat. She liked to think of him
as triumphing in beauty and dress over
all the other men, and it pleased her to
know that, when she was dead and gone,
the lace which she gave him would add
to his appearance. Generally, he was a
prodigal, but from time immemorial wo-
men have loved the prodigal son, and they
always will.
Think over history and you will find
that your heart goes out to the gaMants,
even to the handsome thieves, while it
never beat a bit quicker as you read of
learned monks or patient saints. It is
true that one or two saints evoked heart
throb, but they were saints who had been
sinners. The gay Frenchman who loved
another's WIFE, who was in the habit of
meeting her in a little cottage near Yer
SallleS, who went to meet her one night,
saw that she was lying on a couch, APP
parently asleep, put his arms around her
to waken her with a kiss, and in his arms
her head separted from her body. You
know the story; the husband had been
there, and this was his revenge. The roll
licking cheValer became stern, called him
out, killed him, and then founded an or
der, the members of which wore hair
shirts, slept on planks starved them
selves and took care OF the poor. That
saint you can sympathize with and ad-
mire; but the one who had always been
good, who had nothing about which he
could repent, that saint seemed to you very
uninteresting. Then the gallant robbers
of those days; that gay thief, who is Jack
Sheppard in English, somebody else in
French, somebody else in Italy and some
body else in Spain, but always acts the
same-that merry thief who made a lady
tread measure with him to ransom her
al a md xr-I,O faII In, lo,ra r.rfs hs~
thereafter only stole jewels for her sweet
sake, and who when he got rich, stopped
robbing, became respectable, and married
his true love; what woman can help loving
him? Nowadays he would be politician
and correspondingly undressing. And
the gay beggars Of those days. who earn
ed a breakfast with a song, a dinner with
a story, and a supper with a trick of
cards! Those merry beggars who were in
league with the gentlemen of the road, ah!
those beggars, you can see them pictured
here to-day.
In a bright little opera taken from the
French (all good things come from the
FRENCH, and which is called Half u
King" there is a meeting not of rich
men, but of poor men, beggar men and
thieves, and they come some in rags ana
some in tags and same in velvet gowns,
the velvet gowns, alas! tattered and torn
and soiled with many wine stain, to the
marriage of the daughter of the king or
the motley tribe. He's a merry hummer
called "Tireschappe," and he is going TO
marry his daughter, Pierette, to his assist
ant mountebank, Mlstigris; this wedding
is not done by a-jumping a broomstck,
but it is solemnized by the smashing of a
picture. Here they are, these Knights Of
the Curbstone; some hold torches and
some blow tr9mpets, and they meet in the
most picturesque part of Paris, that Paris
which existed when long before France
sought a wife from Austria; there are
queer, low houses with pointed roofs and
dormer windows, the kind that the gem
tlemen of the court sid over; don't you
remember how Charles and his gentlemen
counted this great sport? 1t was not con-
sidered strange in those days that kind
and beggar, gentleman and robber, should
be friends, and that the man who yes
terday was in the palace of the Duke de
Chateau Margaux might be tomorrow in
the cave frequented by the beggar, Via
Ordinaire. This opera is worth seeins
even if you do not care for music-and
much of it is gCod-it is worth while to
see this Paris the Paris of 1880. Those
were wonderful days. Those were the
days when women fell down and wor-
shipped the queen as she walked and then
away from her, talked of her as the
Austrian woman" Those were the days
when the skies were red as if with Blood
the heavens were trying TO tell of the hor-
rorS to come. Those were the days when
people danced on the brink of a precipice
and enjoyed it. 1t is worth your while
seeing a good stage picture of these days
l am told that Mr. Francis Wilson q
do not know him. so am only repeating
what I have heard is a great student; If
this is so, l can imagine that the prepara-
ton of "Half a King was d great pleas
ure to him and that the result obtained
viii be really JOY forever. You are
made acquainted when you see this OPP
era, not only with the people who make
the story, but with the city and the people
where they live and with whom they
abide. The rnilllner can copy the hat
worn by a lady in this play with a GER
tainty that she is correct; the artist can
copy one Of its courtiers or one OF It's
beggars, and be sure of the correctness Of
their costumes. The gentleman is wearing
such a dress as the tailors of that day
made. The beggaris wearing such clothes
as the beggars OF those days bought from
the secondhand dealers, stole from their
neighbors, or fished with crook from
out the rubbish thrown from some great
mansion. And the people Of the play! The
gentry, the thieves and the beggars-they
are all dancing and singing; dancing on
the very edge of the precipice, singing
while the guillotine is being evolved from
the brain of a young medical student;
but nobody cares and nobody fears. Here
a verse from one OF the DAINTY DdllduSi
it is the keynote to the feelings of the
people Of that day:
"'Tis wine that sends the wits astray;
IT'S love that evere finds them.
TITS wine that brightens eyes Away;
But love so sweety blinds them
SO. II you drink, oh. choose the cup
A ildy's kiss has crowned, boys.
It's wine that makes the world 80 wry
Love makes the world go round, boys"
And so the little actress, Pierette, sang
when Mary Antoinette was queen, and
DR.. Guillotin was a young medical stu
dent and Louis was making locks and
Josephine was the happy, beautiful young
woman, and Napoleon was still in COR
sica, and liberty and equality were just
coming into fashion. And everybody
lived in the present, and nobody thought
Of the future. Thank you, Mr.. Francis
Wilson. You have made me realize better
than ever before how the Paris Of that
day looked. One should always give
thanks when one has gained something
don't you think so? THANK you" Is so
easy to say and usually it is appreciated;
ard even II It isn't, one gains ones self
respect by being polite. Politeness Is more