The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1897-06-03
A BOHEMIAN QUEEN.

We were seated in one of the rooms Of a
| pretty PaGisian cafe. 1t was q luxurious
| ly furnished apartment, arranged with ex-
treme taste. My companion was specu.
lator on the bourse, man with exhaust
i've knowledge of the bouleyards As we
| were waiting for an order to DO placed be-
fore us I casually scrutinized the apart
ment. Behind us was large mirror, and
written upon it with diamond ring was
the word "Julie." Putting at cigarette,
involuntarily came a feeling Of curiosity.
Who was JulieP That word was written
in an attractive feminine hand. In what
particular field Of Bohemia had she movedP
The cafe was frequented almost exclu
siyely by painters, sculptors, musicians
and members of tho theatrical profession
whose names were familiar to the public.
/ called the attention of my companion to
the inscription and asked him who Julie
was. but he replied that the lady had
hourished before his time, since he had
seen the writing on the mirror when 30
years before, he had first come to Paris.
The waiter placed before us an appetizing
repast, and my friend, In the divesting
manner of his countrymen, launched forth
with an interesting criticism of current
topics while we enjoyed the good fare for
which the proprietor Of the place was
famed.
The next day took q trip up the Seine
and stopped for dinner at q little eating
house which, from time immemorial, had
been rendezvous Of artists. The rosy
checked waiter placed q small bottle Of
wine before me on table in which were
carved as many letters as though the place
were resort for college students There
were many famous names eDgrossed there,
and the proprietor pointed to them with
pride, recalling the time when these artists
were unknown and led tho happy, careless
life of Bohemians, who had copper instead
OF silver and gold 1ingling in their pock-
cts Suddenly my attention was called
to word carved there-"Julie.
"Who is Julief" asked.
The proprietor replied that the name
was placed there by an artist, now re.
nowned, and led me to room where
many rough pencil sketches were framed.
This collection he priced highly, as we'll
he might, for there In caricature and 9TH
erwise were seen the faces Of men ard
women who had caused furore not only
In Paris, but throughout the world of art
Among them was the portrait Of girl,
vivacious and charming. fixed her fea-
lures In my mind. Such was the second
step in delying into bit of the past in Bo.
hemia.
This delightful girl appeared in new
role soon l was looking over some old
canyases In junkshop when, 10 and be.
hold, l came across what was undoubtedly
an unfinished Coulter. Moreover, the face
was that of julie The master had painted |
her In the garb Of peasant, or perhaps he |
had met her before she came to Paris and |
only painted bit of nature She was
alone in the fields and the majesty Of the |
pose and the remarkable grace and strength
Of tho figure were quito characteristic Of
the great artist. Julie in the fields was
very different from Julie In the boulevards.
Around her was the quiet Of cyentitle. In
the distance was the outline of house
which was the dwelling Of peasant.
Here, however, was a cue, and I asked
many French painters whom I had met
Incidentally if they had ever seen the orig
nal of my painting, for / purchased the
|
! moro nothing. But many of the old
lrtist's pupils could not recall tho face of
'he girl. Purely out of curiosity largely
pursued tho investigation, just to sec how
'asily queen of Bohemia may be by the
world forgotten and pass out of sight alto
,ether.
Besides, here, thought, was the oppor-
unity for little romance-the life of
Julie, whose name was carried from one
generation to another in these resorts of
alented people. Sometimes In studying
he works of art of an epoch of painting
ne face may be seen appearing and reap
fearing, the features Of some fayorite like
ulie who might have charmed Titan
nd his friends or Raphael and his disci-
les. Everywhere we turn in the old gal
aries this memory of the past confronts us.
Now it is Madonna, then Magda!enc,
ut the observer knows it Is real person.
r ono who has lived, who looks out from
II these canvnses, and wonders what tales
bohemia in those golden days of art
light be unfolded if those lips could
peak So In MANY places glimpses Of
ulie were seen. A charming statuette
3vealed her in vivaciouS mood. She was
ne OF tho figures in q ballroom scene.
'pOn celebrated monument an unrnis-
tkablc likeness to hor features looked
own henignly. Her personality seemed
be thoroughly imbedded In tho art Of
Aris.
One day while in large gallery dis
1vered grewsome scene at the morgue
% young girl lying upon the marble
alb 1t was o magnificent work, but
artling In it's realism, and yetit belonged
! that period of French art when realism
as in its infancy. But chill went
rough mo when | recognized the feat
res of the young girl who figured so prom
'ently in the art Of the day. Was this j.,
10 Julie of whom De Musset sang Or sew 4
al prominent novclsts wrotc-not dis I
cted, Tor they did not disscct people in n
terary manner in those refreshing daysP
he attendant at tho museum told his
tile story about tho picture and the d,
inter.
twas painted from life, :" he said. 1T :
as an actual episode"
"Who was she?''
awe don't know that" I
One day while strolling through enc OF
o pretty cemeteries l came to q grave !
nrkcd by plain stone. ".nlie," it snid. I,
Who she was is known to her friends. ,
hen she died will be remembered by ,
en-. When she was born, we do not
low. Enshrined IN the hearts of poets,
lists and sculptors are written her vir-
cs. What does 1t matter to othersp" f
And that was as far us ever went in +
y investigation. Exchange. !
Not Her Size. II