Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1896-08-15
THE
PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY,
By OSCAR WILDE

But you never sat better. You were per
fectly still. And / have caught the effect
wantod--the half parted lips, and the brigh
look In your eyes. ! don know what Harr.
has been saying to you, but he has c~ertainl.
made you ave tho most wonderful OK
preston. j suppose he has been paying 70,
compliments. You mustn't believe a worr
That he says"
HI has certainly not been paying mn
compliments. Perhaps that Is the reason
don't think ! believe anything he has TOLD
me-"
you know you believe it ALL" said LORI
Henry. looking at him with his dreamy
heavylidded eyes. 81 will 90 out In tn,
garden with you. II Is horribly hot in th'
studio. Basil, let us have something icet
10 drink, something with strawberries in 1t.
Certainly, Harry. Just touch the bell
and when Parker comes / will tell him wha
you want. j have got 10 work up this back
ground, so / will Join you later on. Don
keep Dorian zoo long. | have never been il
better form for painting than I am to-day
This is going to be my masterpiece. IL ],
my masterpiece as it stands"
Lord Harry went into the garden ant
found Dorian Gray burying his face in tn,
cool lilac blossoms. feverishly drinking il
their perfume as IL H. had been wine. VI,
came close 10 him, and put his hand upor
his shoulder. "You are quite right 10 d.
that. be mnrmurcd. Nothing can cure tn,
soul but the senses, Just as nothing can cur,
the senses but the soul"
The lad started and drew back. He wa.
bareheaded and the leaves had tossed his
rebelliOus curls and tangled all their gilded
threads. There was a look Of fear in his
eyes such as people have when they arr
suddenly awakened. His finely chiseled
n~ostrils quivered and some hidden merry.
shook the scarlet of his lips and left then
trembling.
Yes" continued Lord Henry, 'that Is
one of the great secrets OF life--to cure the
soul by means OF the senses, and the senses
by means Of the soul. You are a wonderful
creature. You know more than you thins
you know, just as you know less than you
want to know"
Dorian Gray frowned and turned his head
away. He could not help liking the tall,
graceful young man who was standing by
him. His romantic olive-colored face and
worn expression interested him. There was
something in his low, languid voice that was
absolutely fascinating. His cool, white,
fower-like hands, even, had a curious
charm. They moved, as he spoke, like
music, and seemed TO have a language OF
their own. Blu he felt afraid OF him. and
ashamed Of being afraid. Why had IL been
left for a stranger To reveal him himself
He had known Basil Hallward I months,
but the friendship between them had never
altered him. Suddenly there had come
some one across his life who seemed to
have disclosed to him life's mystery.
And, yet, what was there TO be afraid Of
He was not a school-boy or a girl. 1t was
absurd TO be frightened.
Let us go and sit in the shade" said
Lord Henry. Parker has brought out the
drinks, and IL you stay any longer In this
glare you will be quite spoiled, and Basil
will never paint you again. You really
must not let yourself become sunburned. 1t
would be very un5ecoming to you"
"What does it matterf' cried Dorian.
laughing as be sat down on the seat e the
end of the garden.
ut should matter everything to you, Mr..
Gray"
"Whyi"
Because you have now the most marvel
Gus youth, and youth is the one thing worth
having
IL don't feel that Lord Henry
mo, you don't feel IL now. Some day,
when you arc old and wrinkled and ugly,
when thought has scared your forehead
with its lines, and passion brand I your lips
with its hideous fires, you will feel il terri
bly,. Now, wherever you go, you charm the
world. Will IL always be SOL"
you have a wonderful face, Mr.. Gray.
Don't frown. You have. And Beauty is a
form OF Genius is higher, indeed, than
Genius. as il needs no explanation. II is
one of the great facts of the world, like sun
light, or spring time, or the reflection in
dark waters of that silver shell we call the
moon. II can not be questioned. II has its
divine right Of sovereignty. II makes
princes of those who have it. You smile
All when you have lost it you won't smile.
People say sometimes that Beauty is
only superficial. That may be so. But at
least it Is not so superficial as Thought. To
me, Beauty is the wonder of wonders. II is
only shallow people who do not Judge by
appearances. The true mystery Of the
world is the visible, not the invisible.
"Yes, Mr.. Gray, the gods have been good
10 you. But what the gods give they quickly
take away. You have only O few years in
which really TO live. When your youth
goes, your beauty will GO with II, and then
you will suddenly discover that there are no
triumphs left for you, or nave to content
Yourself with those mean triumphs that the
memory Of your past will make more bitter
than defeats. Every month as it wanes
brings you nearer to something dreadful.
Time is jealous of you, and wars against
your lilies and your roses. You will become
You will suffer horribly.
Realize youth while you have il. Don't
squander the gold of your day, listening TO
the tedious, trying to improve the hopeless
failure, or giving away your life TO the
ignorant, the common, and the vulgar,
which are the aims, the false ideals, Of our
age. Live! Live the wonderful life that is
In you! Let nothing be lost upon you. Be
afraid of nothing.
"a new hedonism-tha. Is what your
century wants. You might be its visible
, symbo,. With your personality there is
nothing you could not do. The world be-
longs to you for a season.
The moment l met you l saw thai you
were quite unconscious Of what you really
are. what you really might be-. There was
so much about you that charmed me that ]
felt / must tell you something about your.
self. I thought how tragic it would be II
you were wasted. tNor there Is sucu a n.tiv
time that your youth will lsst-such q little
time.
1.-THE common hill flowers wither, but
they blossom again. The laburnum will be
as gold next June as it is nov. In a mouth
there will be purple stars on the clematis,
and year after year the green night of its
leaves will have its purple stars. But we
never get back our youth. The pulse Of Joy
that beats in us at twenty, becomes slug
gish. Our limbs fail, u senses rot. We
degenerate into hideous puppets, haunted
by the memory Of the passions of which we
were too much afraid, and the exquisite
temptations that we did not dare to yield To,
Youth Youth There is absolutely moth.
Ing in the world but youth"
Dorian Gray listened, opcn-eyed ana won.
dering. The spray Of lilac fell from his hand
upon tho gravel. A furry bee came and
buxxed around 1t for q moment. Then IL be.
| gan to scramble all over the fretted purple
| of the tiny blossoms. He watched IL with
| that strange interest In trivial things that
we try to develop when things Of high Inn.
port make US afraid. or when we arc stirred
by nome new emotion, for which we can moi
And exuresSion. or when soma thou0ht thai