Maryland independent. [volume] (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1874-current, 1897-02-26

"In Pari@," was the reply. "Why
YOU ask, Mere Yv1ane?"
r'rf amind," sail She, uo1din
her head Sh.ugltfally. " Il have u
idea. Yo1 will set.-~-F
The widows mini was strong ansr
simple; it III not take long to "make
up" Without staying to deliberate,
without listenin; to the alvices aud
warnings that b.sieged her on every
side, and without conf ling to any one
the Obi Ct of her journey, she packed
up few necassaries, anil one fine
morning, rich with the savings of
many industrious years, anl armed
with a written character from tho
farmer by VIII IN sh. hld boeu en-
ployed, she ses OH alone f,r Paris.
Sue arrived i'll the great clpital,
with her scarlet petticoat, her white
neckerchief, her large cap and her
honest face. 1t was big place she
saw, much larger than she hal expect.
ed; very brilliant, anil busy. and be-
vlldering, but, though astnni,hed, sho
was not a bit dism ,y.d. Size traversad
the intermiaabIe bonlevafds with the
Of born Parisian, giving
no sort OF attention to the city" lions"
paying no heed to its monuments and
its parks anil gardens, its
gayeties and fetes. having in hgr ION
est head but a single idea, namely, tho
power OF photography.
Directly she arrive she inquired:
"Who is the be,t photographer?'
Opinions differed some told her IT,
win, others SAlomtn, others Frnnk, |
fastaye Levy, BertaI.
''But which of all these, asked the
lame, IS most successful in portraits
of childrrn?"
In reply she WAS furnished with the
address Of cartin cl v,r artist,
whose name l am not at liberty to re-
'ord, and to whose stu Ito sac at one.
lastenrl.
"E.aryb says, monsieur" she
'egan, chat your likenesses of chill
lren areadmirable.
Everybody is vcry kind, +" replied
he photographer smiling.
THAT yon take them in the most
raceful and natural attitudes" +" re-
umed the dame, ''and that they are
o iifelike that they almost seem to
peak.
I'll have attained any unusual
kill in this branch OF my art. ma
ame, he replied, sit is probably be-
anse l have worked con amore. l
we the little rogues. 1t is pure
leasure to me to perpetuatc their
lnocent smiles and graces. have,
borrower, plenty OF little subjects of
y owa to practice upon. See here"
He opened the door. called, and the
ext moment half dozen merry chill
rem, of ages varying from three to
Selve, rushed into the room aud
'owded round his knees.
''fou may imagine" he continued,
Milling, "that it is not always an easy
after to reluce these hdsety little
'stomers to the necessary immobil.
y; itreq1ires little tact and good
,nl of patience. 1t isl child, pra.
lme, madame, whose portrait you ,
ish taken?"
Yes, monsieur, it is n child; but
} will not trouble you with restless
'ss, replied Dame Yvonno, shaking
II head; che will be neither pe,u.
ut nor rebeIlious, tho poor little
ve. Good reason why-he is"
"Yes?" said the artist, inierroea-
iely, stroking the forehead of his :
'lngest child as she paused.
He is dead!" said Dame Yyonne ,
avely. {
At these startling words, uttered in
voice in which approaching sobs be- |
aged themselves, the photographer J
II distressed and ashamed of his own
ntism. He felt he must have hit.
rly renewed the mothers grief in |
hiblting to her these fair children
ID cnrensing them before her eyes t
Go and play on the balcony. he
lisperel hastily and, as they passed a