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

- AA@haAS ~ tgtb1A fIC
"Never heard Of her"
mo one has. People will som day, how
ever. She is a genius"
my dear boy, no woman is n genius;
women are a decorative sex. They never
have anything 10 say, but they say II charm
ingly. They rcrresent the triumph OF
matter oyer mind, Just as we men represent:
the triumph Of mind over morals. There
are only two kinds Of women, the plain and
the colored. The plain women are very
useful. II you want 10 gain n reputation
for responsibility, you nave merely Ia take
them down IN supper The other women
are very charming. They commit one mis-
take, however, They paint in order 10 try
10 look young. Our crandmothers PAINTED
IN order TO try TO talk brilliantly. Rouge
and esprit used to go together. That has oil
gone out now. As long as a woman can
look ten years younger than her own
daughter. she is perfectly satisfied AS for
conversation, there are only five women in
London worth talking 10, and two Of these
ant be admitted into decent society. How
ever, tell me about your genius. How long
ia r. you known herr"
about three weeks. Not so much. About
two weeks and two days"
SHOW did you come across her!n
81 will tell yon, Harry; but you mustn't
De unsympathetIc about il. After all il
never would have happened If ! had not
net you. You filed me with a wild desire
% know everything about life. For laws
after | met you, something seemed 10
ihrob in my veins. As ] lounged in the
park, or strolled down the Piccadilly. | used
% look at every one who passed me and
wonder with a 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 q
passion for sensations.
zone evening about seven o'clock J de-
.ermined 10 60 out in search Of some ad-
venture. ] felt that this gay, monstrous
London Of ours, with its myriads Of people,
rs splendid sinners. and its sordid sins. as
you once said, must have something in store
Tor me-. ! fancied a thousand things. The
mere danger gave me a sense OF delight. /
cemembered what you had said to me on
that wonderful night when we first dined
;Ogether, about the search for beauty being
the poisonous secret Of life. | don't know
what l expected, but | went out and wan
-'ANh NnsN HhNf eCFA t'oAA H. haA ~ -
labyrinth Of grimy streets and black, grass
ess squares. About half past eight | passed
by a littio third-rate theater, with great
iaring gas jets ana gaudy play-bills. A
hideous Jew, in the most amazing waistcoat
| ever beheld in my life, was standing at
the entrance, smoking a vile cigar. He had
greasy ~ringlets, and an enormous diamond
blazed in the center Of a soiled shirt. Ave
a box, my lordr he said, when he saw me,
and he took of his hat with an act Of gor.
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-b box.
To the present day | can't make out why !
did so; and yet il l hadn'ti-my dear
Harry, If l hadn't, l would have missed the
greatest romance of my life. l see you are
laughing. 1t is horrid Of your"
Il am not laughing, Dorian; at least | 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
merely the beginning"
LIZ NOu lAilhh NY op SO
cried Dorian, angrily.
mo / think your nature so deep"
Chow do you meant"
'My dear boy, people who only love once
In their ives are really shallow people:
what they call their fidelity. ! call either the
letbargy Of custom or the lack of imagina-
ton. Faithlessness is % the emotional life
what consistency is TO the intellectual life
little private box, with a vulgar drop-scene
staring me in the face. / looked out behind
the curtain. and viewed the house. /: vas
a tawdry affair, all cupids and cornucopias,
like a third-rate weddingcake. The gallery
and pit were fairly full, but the two row Of
dingy stalls were quite empty, and there
was hardly a person in what ] suppose they
called the dress-circle. Women went about
with oranges and ginger-beer, and there
was a 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 10 wonder what on earth ]
should do, when | caught sight of the play
bill. What do you think the play was,
Harry"
Il should think The Idiot Boy; or. Dumb
but Innocent Our fathers used 10 like
that sort of piece, | believe. The longer !
| live. Dorian. the more keenly | feel tina,
whatever was good enough for our fathers
is not good enough for US. In art, as In
politics, les Uundperes ont totjo,us tort"
This play was good enough for US.
II was Romeo and Juliet l must admit /
was rather annoyed at the idea OF seeing
Shakspeare lone in such a wretched hole OF
A place. Still, / felt interested in a sort OF a
way. Al any rate | determined to wait for
the first act. There was a 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-scene was drawn up,
and the play began. Romeo was a stout
elderly gentleman, with corked eyebrows, a
husky voice. and a figure like a beer-barrel
Mercutio was almost as bad. He was play
ed by the l~ow-comedian, who had intro
duced gags of his own and was on most
familiar terms with the pit. They were as
yrotesaue as the scenery, and looked as II II
had come out of a pantomime of fifty years
ago. But Juliet Harry, imagine the girl
hardly seventeen years of age, with a little
dowerlike face, a small Greek head with
plated coils of dark brown hair, eyes thai
were violet wells of passion, lips that were
ike the petals of a rose. She was the love
hest thing / had ever seen In my life. YoI
aid to me once that pathos left you un
moved, but hat beauty, mere beauty, could
Gil your eyes with tears. tell you, Harry
could hardly see this girl for the mist o.
tears that came across me. And her voic'
Il never heard such a voice. 1t vas yer,
? low at first, with deep mellow notes, tina
seemed to fall singly upon ones ear. Thel
II became a little louder, and sounded like
aute or distant hautboy. In the garden
scene it had all the tremulous ecstasy tina
me hears Just before dawn when nightin
gales are singing. There are moments
later on. when IL had the wild passion o
yiolins. You know how a voice can stir one
Your voice and the voice Of Sibyl vane ar
two things that / shall never forget. Whel
I close my eyes, / hear them, and each o
them says something different I don
know which to follow. Why should l nc
, love herl Harry, i do love her. She J
everything TO me in life. Night after nigh
; I 60 TO see her play. One evening she
! Rosalind, and the next evening she ]
Imogen. have see her die in the gloom Q
an Italian tomb, sucking the poison from M
lovers lips ! have watched her wander