Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-07-13
Fortune of Model of Most
Famous French Painting
Discredits Talk
of Justice.

hand against all men, he knew a bud that
grew In Montmartre mud.
She was vaguely his model. and very
much his friend and sympathizer She was
delicate. of the ethereal, housed Paris
charm. timidly beautiful. graciously pretty.
Abel Faivre made many sketches OF her
in black and white in color. He was not a
painter. The sketches Of her were works
of love. for art. Art their solace,
wretchedness their lot.
Then, one day, at last, Jeanne Just dis
appeared.
Bah" said Abel to himself, Il don't
blame poor Jeanne. Yesterday We had no
lunch Good luck poor little jeanne
And he occupied his mind by doing some
peculiarly singing cartoons against the
weil-to-do and happy. And, as he had still
his work, his large and bitter gall, his
Montmartre streets to pace in moody loneli-
ness. time passed.
Days followed days. Time passes for us
all. A man must be triple weakling to
mourn for any one or anything. life is
bad dream. Some day we shall wake Yet.
all the same, when he was quite cured OF
that infatuation, that illusion man calls
friendshp-quite cured. look you-he got out
those sketches; and, shutting himself up In
the studio for nine days on bread and milk.
he produced. with tears in his eyes, hate In
his heart. the masterpiece of The Girl with
the Fan''-he, Abel Faivre, the carlcatur-
He sent It to the Salon. Good. The
French government snapped it up. Good.
1t was big price. Good He found him
sums. Good, good. So, had he not been
SO completely nervous, seeking and dissat-
isied, he would have been lucky youth.
You understand he did not care for any one
on earth, but was just embittered on prin-
ciple that luck had come so late.
Therefore. instead of taking pleasure, lie
fed from the snobs and walked the streets.
as usual Doing what? Just looking for
face.
With a Sigh of Relief
She's not therer' he said at last. with
great sigh Of relief Lets look In higher
places
1t did not take him long He went among
the snobs. At once, from all sides, he heard
of his beauteous model
Yes, of course, your model of The Girl
with the Fam Certainly Where? Why,
everywhere, at the first nights of theaters;
at the smart exposition; at the Ritz, and
in the Bois at half past six
Feverishly the negligent Bohemian dress
ed in clothes from smart tailor. With
fire in his veins he sailed out at half past
to drive through the Ava Acacias in
stylish open cab.
rode. He mingled IN the pageant. Under
the acacia blossoms he was watching, wait
ing.
There! There she is, your model"
Abel glared at her AS she passed In her
victoria he almost thrust his face into 1t.
Naturally, the young lady did not know
him.
Naturally, he did not know her
THAT heifer, there, my Jeanne! Name OF
Now we can fire the cannonv'
He seemed drunk. He was drunk later.
Three days passed in hateful phantasma-
goria.
Then Abel Faivre began his search anew.
He searched the smart patisseries where
young married women take their afternoon
tea. He searched the parks where fresh
and blooming mammas sit reading while
the suburbs Neuilly, Auteuil, where fortu-
nate young couples live retired, hiding their
JOY. He searched the Paris banlieu where
employees and clerks live economically.
He searched always in vain.
He searched the Latin quarter and the
boulevard. He walked the gaily lighted
avenues. Do you know what it is to seek
always for face you never find, In crowds?
It gets upon the nerves. 1t was at this
time Abel Favre did his cartoons that are
SO hateful that great reputation only saved
them.
Now I'll cut 1t short.
One rainy night he walked in the mud OF
the Boulevard Rochechouart, Montmartre
Abruptly, a poor, trailing thing sccosted
him. unkempt, white. sunken, with great
eyes.
All, poor Abel! All, poor Jeanne!
He took her to him. He had her elab-
orately tended by the doctors-who did
nothing for her. 1t was too late. 1t was
no use. She had known too much hardship
with too little food-the true Girl with the
Fan. STERLING HELLO.