Evening star., 1901-02-23

something to SELL. e.. canvas he has
painted. Yet most of them have been so
busy for years telling how pictures should
be painted that they can count their own
finished works on their ten fingers. One,
who calls himself "Rosicrucian," after
living for two years in idleness on miser-
able pittances, suddenly awoke and In a
month produced a picture SO glorious in
coioring. SO extraordinary and unearthly in
conception and execution, that a rich col
iector offered him 1900 francs for it, as 1t
hung In a little independent" salon. Un-
happily he had sold it to dealer for 200
francs the day before. The rich collector.
having conscience about giving artists
their dues. refused to treat with the dealer,
and gave the Rosicrucian commission to
duplicate the thing.
His course was plain before him. He had
only to repaint that picture and get his
$500. 1t was called The Thirst for Gold.
showing a crowd of men and women rush
Ing greedily, furiously up toward some
pointed rocks, from which the fascinat-
ing metal was seen shining. There was an
idol. dazzling in splendor and impassiveiy
smiling at the human clusters clinging des-
perately to his pedestal. Blood from their
wounds flowed over them; some were tram
pied under foot, crushed and torn, while
the pitiless rays of the sun shone over
them. Above the gold still illumined cloud
palaces. and still beyond sad archangels
fled. from the accursed earth. Painted In
CLEANS of gold and vermilon. of colored
light and shadow, palpitating with fanci-
full forms and waving wings, 1t brought
out the thrilling allegory of "The Thirst
for Cold and its sad futility in way to
compel healthy reverie in the most hard
ened. My Observation-Disclosures promised
to make another just like it.. He got a can
vas and colors and accented some of the
payment in advance Then, after long
months and several other payments in ad-
vance, he managed to turn out to the dis
gust of the rich collector, something ut
terly different, outrageously fanciful and
unsympathetic, that he renounced all in
terest in the artist.
Do Not Care for Money.
These Bohemians, in spite of the hum
dreds of petty little tricks to which they
resort to get 1t, really seem to be free from
'the thirst for gold" l could count up
half dozen such painters talented yet al
ways hard up, able to produce what people
want, yet utterly refusing to produce it..
For the sake of gratifying their Bohemian
Whims these 'illumines a froid,'' these SOL
emn deceivers, counting always on the mai
Vete of the public and its patient willing
ness to wait for promised miracles of beau
ty, hang up annually with grins) their be-
lated Bottcellis, their symbolical problem
pictures and their Rosicrucian mysteries.
They show wind-blown angel delegations
kit!ng through the greeny-blue empyrean,
as stlfr as earth-bound skyrocket sticks;
there are gaunt and hungry visaged hippi-
campii, horse-headed, ur-quartered and
fish-tailed, engaged, Bunthorne-posed, at
what looks the task of reading Rosicrucian
leaflets to choirs of blowsy, brain-fogged
Botticelli beauties, jaundice-t tinted, with
peroxide tresses; while demoniac adoles-
cents, old crones and damned souls eating
the flesh from their own limbs, not without
anguish. over tomato-colored fire from
sky-blue Goals, are there to satisfy the un-
initiated. They are frauds-just frauds
just gay, Bohemian frauds.
Then there are the Bohemian poets. One
such has the peculiar faculty of being able
only to initiate other poets. He has never
produced anything Of value as his own
and yet his spurious Verlaine poetry. for
example, at times outsoars the flights of
Verlalnes own sweet melody and delicate
poetic beauty. Once he sold to the Figaro
a pretended unpublished poem of Alfred de
MuSset that made the round of the literary
world as something wonderful
Thorough Bohemians.
The symbolists and decadents who flour
ished few years ago were all thorough
going Bohemians. One of its leaders would
at times descend to giving French and
English lessons, but the means of liveli-
hood of most of them are shrouded in mys-
terry. His speciality was to put more ideas
into verse than the words themselves would
hold His poetry takes a deal of explana-
ton; indeed, he won more reputation by
his conversation than by his poetry. A
publisher on hearing him describe his idea
of a piece to be called "The Afternoon of a
Faun' offered him carriage for the piece
aged to write 1t. And the publisher
published it. But, as an afterthought, he
told the poet he had not defined the kind
of carriage, so he thought it not incongru-
Gus to buy him a donkey cart, which the
poet accepted. Another publisher, hearing
him going on in drawing room about a
vase of flowers, offered him a handsome
check if he would write out just what he
bod han ,rt,ocr bod ,-n.,1-
at it, he says, and gave it up.
Among these Bohemian poets there are
true ones, valued and praised by their COM
rades. who have written nothing. They sit
in cafes all day. They know how a poem
should be written, and the telling of it fills
them with such joy that they find no time
to write. I'VE must exalt our sentiments"
they say. 1--WE must give a spiritual con-
secraton to our Impressions (ThiS means,
1 think, LET us have another.'D LAS for
me- / heard one saying the other after
noon, whenever l have date with a
pretty girl I choose a church for the rem
devious. The faint perfume of the dead
incense and the mystic gloom of the twi
light amid it's arches heighten with a SOL
emn splendor my emotions. When l think
of the girl 1 love-" he continued, Il see
rising on the horizon of my thoughts lily
unfolding it's miraculous corolla in the sa-
cred silence of a lake lost in the solitude
of immense forests. Waiter, one rum and
water
1t this very same lover Oh 1nySllCal
beauty of whom terrible bon mot got
about, terrible even in the Latin Quarter.
He was notorious for his dirty hands.
Some one asked once. But how does he
get his hands so dirty?" And some one
answered, "Oh, you know he is always
rubbing his forehead with them!'
Looking for Rooms.
Two operatic versions of Henri Murgers
''yie de Boheme'' have been produced lately
in Paris, so that the public has been
mourning again over the amours Of Ro-
dolphe and Mimi and reveling in the Bo-
hemian gayety Of their legendary compan-
ions. But there is another side to the
medal. To return to my Bohemian medical
student c'of nine years standingD, 1 last
met him engaged in what is for him an Oft
renewed quest. He was looking for rooms.
"What 1 DESIRE" he said, "is a study in
which to work and keep my library; bed
room with good wide bed and gas
burner over the head of it for reading, and
a kitchen with gas stove, in case 1 should
ever want to heat water for a toddy at
night-or grill a sausage for dinner" he
added as an airy afterthought. He gen.
orally gets what he seeks, because the
number Of poor widows who rent furnished
rooms is as unlimited as is their confidence.
In the last eight months this man has fit
tod from a half dozen such furnished ana rt-