The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1904-09-17

g9ymb %7 No; :. don't know what it
what it is, it wouldn't be: The in
effably subtle is what my artist is after.
He told me SO at once, so that
wouldn't nurse any vain hope of salts
flying his quest. But then, a little later,
he decided that my smile had the sub
tlety of Da Vinci smile. That g be-
cause it is sinuously serpentine, I sup
Hcation.''
The smile was rioting over the
piquant face--a gay, Wholesome, infec-
tious smile. Bobby watched it with in
dlcations of approval.
A smile is in the eyes of the observ-
err he remarked, sententiously.
"Don t rob the general public because
g. few Bohemians have astigmatisms. -
1T was the next night after that
dinner that I really set sail for Bohe-
mia Nancy went on. MRS. Wallace
problem novels took u.s.
"Was he beautiful, tooq' Bobby in
quired, with fine scorn in his tone.
"Bohby, he was lovely. He looked
like cross between an oatmeal adver-
tisement and q. spanked cherub. You
and innoeuous and serious. ,Psyehologi-
stance to him. Anything one says sets
him off, and # one keens still the silence
sets him off. He says silence is so full Of
he can endure very little Of it at time.
And he looks like a mild benignant
full moon when he says it.
eve went to a table d 'hote place
way uptown. 1t is the last refuge Of
the chosen few, the last stronghold Of
Bohemia. The artist begged me, with
faora in 70
about it.
'As soon as it is. known he said,
'the crowd will rush in and spoil it. as
they have spoiled our other haunts.'
sn't It pathetic, Bobby. to be so
great that the vulgar horde, follows one
ures? There's something positively
epic about that retreat Of the Bohe.
mians. 1t reminds me Of all sorts Of
things in history only I can't think
whI fReX sFs 10 D a6ofRr b2' from
"Rockv they are,' agreed Bobby.
ing noble visions, Bobby. Making enc
stand after another, only to be pursued
and routed. Why, it 8 like Homer, or
Poland, or the Boer war, or the tender
loin.
TT suggested to. the artist that he
band planting their standard on the
Harlem heieht-sort of a Custer's Last
Rally group; you know. He didn It
think It would be ,, symbolic. He was
who paints q, picture that tells story
can be saved.
this refuse of et the n eeet. 'i TSeres s's,
s sn5aen and deghu long re Gebpe pa asS2r
ingdale warden. He believes in humor-
ing them, ces gems Ia. He told me go.
He confded in me. It was my hopeless
Philistinism that moved him to it,
suppose. He said he had already known
cette espese in the Quarter Latin, so he
understood them.
% lis sont DIES braves garcons, mad
emoiselle, mails un peu-vous savez, un
peu- =
".C'est toqiours CONNIE ca avee les
peu drole. Mais avec de coeurl MATS
oui, mademoiselle. All, ST on pouvait
acheter DIES poulets avec de coeur!'
cit would be Jolly, wouldn't it,
Bobaby + e, one &c could ID by chickens With
~ has been DONE" said Bobby,
they are doing it, but they always pay
; in something else, sooner or later-pay
to the last farthing' rs
"How many were eating, the chick,
ems on this particular nightaD Sc
"About fifteen, 7 fancy-most1y men
) II met them all. It. was quite a little
, family-sort Of mutual relief associa.
ton. Everybody was allowed to talk
about himself for a certain length Of
time, provided he'd give the other man
chance to talk about himself for the
, same length of time. Reciprocity Is
| a great thing, Bobby. I've never seAl