Democratic messenger. [volume] (Snow Hill, Md.) 1869-1973, 1896-08-22
A BEAUTIFUL MAN.

OF beauty that makes people turn around
IN the street and stare-the strong, fair,
God given beauty that even men like to
look at
He lived up 10 his beauty. and for
his beauty and by his beauty. He looked
like prince, prince of some northern
saga-like Frithjof. the destroyer If
gods He looked like the impossible hero
Of penny novelette, written by WON
AN.
He was enc evening at Colonel and
Mrs. Waync'S The music WAS com
plicatod. and the women were plain.
and he-wiShing these conditions had
been rcyersed-sat with his elbow rest
ing on little table near him and hand
lifted up. looking AT his nails. II soothcd
him and prevented his yawning from
becoming unmanageably frequent.
May see them, too:" said a wum-
ans voice at his side. II was clear
young voice, and when he turned around
10 look ut its owner he was disap-
pointed.
Il am a painter, said she. and
understand beautiful hands" She held
out one Of her own, palm upward, ms
she spoke, waiting for him to lay his
upon it. He did so smiling. not know
ing exactly what TO say, and she bent
her head little to one side and looked
at it
The daughters of the house were play
ing long duet
How dreadfully bored you are. :" she
said thoughtfully. without raising her
eyes; five yawns i'll ten minutes. You
may take back your hand. Thank you. "
He was again at loss what to say.
He did not quite understand her, with
her pretty voice and her ugly face He
would have liked 10 know what She
thought Of his hand, but il looked fool
ish to ask So he sat still, staring ut
her aggravating. untidy little profile.
The ugly little thing came up TO him
before the evening was over and lifted
her small hard face To his. Mr.. Van
den Heuvol," she said in pretty voice
that ought to have belonged to some one
else, Il want you 10 come and see me
that is. " she corrected laughingly, Il
want you TO come and let me see You.
l want 10 paint you. please. And here
a softening Of the pretty voice. You
are SO very beautiful. | am an exceed
ingly clever painter. you know. 50 you
need not fear 10 trust your beauty with
me.
He Went next day. and the day after
that and every day.
She never needed or cared about what
his thoughts or his feelings might be
She painted on, stopping sometimes to
clasp her hands in frank. heathenish
alteration before him. Your beauty
positively hurts met she would say,
pressing both her hands to her heart
And if he turned pale she told him TO
spoil her tints
Il love You" said Henri Pierre one
afternoon rs she bent over him with a
cardboard lotus lily in her hand.
Don't be foolish. dear. she said. re-
arranging her landscape.
Il love you, T." repeated Narcissus.
"Now your curls arr all tangled up
on the wrong side, and il viii take me
an hour 10 fasicn the lilies on your
head. /" she said Grossly. And with light.
turpentiny fingers and with Il long brush
in her mouth She patted him into shape
again. There. lock down now and
smile :
Il shall try and catch smallpox, said
Henri Pierre, opening his eyes. ''or get
burned in fire and be all SCARED and
hidoous Then you will love me for
something better than my beauty"
Then shall not love you at all, p"
said the girl, with a decided little dab
of the brush Go to sleep Here comes
Diana. -
1t was not Diana. Ii was Lydia Love,
the pocteSs. who opened the door and
entered with the flash and dazzle Of her
young success. and II her scarlet hat
and cloak
My dear. ycu must lend him to
me. = she said after She had kissed her
friend and stared AT Henri Pierre until
he shut his eyes again in self defense.
Il have glt an crdcr for - sonnets,
and my brain is absolutely dried up.
Lend him To- me for three weeks I'll
send him back unimpaircd Hoavcnsl
What a face he has!'
He learned all her poems by heart
and rociicd them To her in the mornings
WHEN she WAS too calm 20 write He
sat at h,r feet from morning to night
with the lilac intensity Of his eyes fixed
on her williul face, and his heart broken
10y her capri,iou kindness
Il love You. he said
She laughed BE content with the
gift Of gifts the gods have blessed you
with-your bcauty-yuur improbable,
your perfect your magnificent beauty.
Hang my beauty" cried Henri
Pierre pasSionatcly. Il want 10 bc loved
lowed for no rcason-lovcd, Not be-
cause my nose is straight. and my hair
browny yellow. and my eyes sky blue!
But loved with closed eyes. blindly, un-
reasonably "
Il am sorry. said Lydia, who had
finished her twenty fourth sonnet that
day; hut | cannot help You And if
you take my advice you will never be
angry or IN earnest about anything IL
spoils your features.
''Chi dice ca II stcllo 80 luccnte.
Nun sapc 81 'uocchio ca tn ticnc 'nfronto."
Ii was not boy, il was young girl
singing. and a little boy who was with