The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1905-01-22

melody Is brought out, as II a contralto voice
were 'wailing its question. -Why-why--f
Oh, whittier do we take mel'
The picture changes too.
At halt in the journey Of the train
toward nightfall they are brought tired and
cold to large enclosure. Here, strangely,
they sec many, many women nether
too young nor too old. They are dressed IN
white, with rouged cheeks. with coquet-
tishly arranged hair so fantastic sight,
so weird in this lone. darksome settlement
of the wild steppes
And then learned the reason, and the
old woman spoke with a sad calm.
These women, neither too young nor
too old, are political eXiles and common
criminals. Some are refined and noble,
others are depraved and of the lowest
classes. There are matrons and maidens.
There is to be revel
The Russian Government wishes 70
populate the Siberian convict viilages.
explains the sad. calm voice. The soldiers
and convcts do not mind the lack Of COM
forts. of glamour. Later they are drunken,
and the night becomes noisy with orgies.
L thought | should 90 mad in my cell,
and the serene eyes of the old woman rested
for an instant on her audience Il did not
sleep--and in the morning when we re-
sumed march, from the gate. of the en-
closure we met emerging train of convict
dirty, ragged, they we're Inundated and
in despair
These women we're going to fulfil the
decree of the Russian administrative JUS
tice. They were also bound on their ter
rible mission of populating the siberian
convict towns
The first movement of the prelude ex-
panded and returned again TO the first
allow heavy march, 1t rose near the end
to a deep fortissImo. And the closing
octaves trod heavily as II burdened.
From the end Of the piano murmur,
subdued shrek testified that the cu-ving
Beardsley shape was enjoying diversion
afforded by the eI-otiicer inc CLOSING
chords were done. Some pleasantly like
a pebble cast into q pool sent out neon
siderable ripples TO meet the dying vlbra-
tons OF these tragic 9 sharp minor echoes
of the Russian steppes.
That is real caravan tea,-bTought over
the"
1t was the imperturbable' soft voice oil
the sculptor, explaining TO the beauty.
ITO be what you are-that IL the question
was heard the insistent voice OF the eN-
officer-answered by the short shrek oil
amusement from the shadow.
thin spiral OF smoke arose from the
sculptor's lips, and he had become silent
after his temporary break into. speech.
You see went on the inslstent one,
women are not strong enough TO allow
their individuality, overburdened with
fashions, to be what
Every one laughed. but no resu med;
i do not forget that am spea KING IN
the studio Of an artist
why don't we break away some one
suggested. break, break
Scarcely awake TO the game of light JOY;
the late visitor reached for his cane and
gloves.
Seated at the fire in the other room,
the ohaperon leaned over TO place her
empty glass on n tabouret and was antlcl-
pated by the swift little japanese, Who con
veyed 1t to a more tidy spot.
RafOrp the nlnln girl had DnPn DliglP1
back into the triangular corner for another
ragtime-- something to wake Us up
murmured the sculptor in an artistic torpor
the last caller managed his adieux
In the dark hallway and In the brisk
walk up the avenue in the dusk he thought
of the strange congIomerate that life Is in
a great city And he thought bow far apart
human beinRs are from each other.