The Green Forest tribune., 1915-02-05

Tony Collasso was an Italian illus trator who lodged and painted in studio-apartments in Washington Square, South. His companions were various, numbering among them group of those pygmy celebrities of whom one has never heard until by chance he meets them, and of whom their intimates speak as of immortals.
 To Collasso's studio Samson was called one night by telephone. He had sometimes gone there before to sit for an hour. chiefly as listener, while the man from Sorrento bewailed fate with his coterie, and denounced all forms of government over insipid Chianti
 But tonight he entered the door to find himself in the midst of a gay and boisterous party. The room was al- ready thickly logged with smoke. and dozen men and women, singing snatches of current airs, were inter- esting themselves over a chafing dish. The crowd was typical. A few very minor writers and artists, model or two, and several women who had thinking parts in current Broadway productions
 At eleven o'clock the guests of honor arrived in taxicab. They were MT. William Farbish and Miss Winifred Starr. Having come, as they explained, direct from the theater where Miss Starr danced in the first row, they were in evening dress. Samson men, tally acknowledged, though with in- stinctive disfavor for the pair. that both were, in way. handsome. Col lasso drew him aside to whisper i'm | portantly:
 Make yourself agreeable to Farbish. He is received in the most exclusive society, and is a connoisseur of art. If he takes a fancy to you, he will put you up t the best clubs. l think 1 shall sell him a landscape" The girl was talking rapidly and | loudly. She had at once taken the | center of the room, and her laughter rang in free and egotistical peals above the other voices.
 Come, said the host, "I shall pre- | sent you"
 The boy shook hands, gazing with | his usual directness into the show girls large and deeply-penciled eyes. Farbish, standing at one side with his hands in his pockets, looked on with an air of slightly bored detach- ment.
 His dress, his mannerisms, his bear ing, were all those of the man who has overstudied his part. They were too perfect, too obviously rehearsed through years of social climbing, but that was a defect Samson was not yet prepared to recognize.
 Someone had naively complimented Miss Starr on the leopard-skin cloak she had just thrown from her shapely shoulders, and she turned promptly and vivaciously to the flatterer.
 Tt is nice, isn't it?" she prattled. Tt may look little up-stage for eir. who hasn't got a line t9Its'a .1.,s s,l x' the piece, but these days G. mus, get the spotlight, or be a dead one. It reminds me of little run-in I had with Graddy-he's our stage-director, you know" She paused, awaiting the invitation to proceed, and, having re- ceived it, went gayly forward. T was l ten minutes late, one day, for rehears- all and Graddy came up with that sar- castle manner of his, and said: Miss Starr, don't doubt you are a perfect ly nice girl, and all that, but it rather gets my goat to figure out how, on | salary of fifteen dollars a week, you come to rehearsals in a million dollars worth of clothes, riding in a limousine-and ten minutes late!'" She broke off with the eager little expression of awaiting applause, and, having been satisfied, she added: T was afraid that wasn't going to get a laugh, after all.''
 She glanced inquiringly ct Samson. who had not smiled, and who stood looking puzzled.
 "A penny for your thoughts, Mir South, from down South," she chal- lenged.
 ~ guess I'm sort of like MT. Grad dy,' said the boy, slowly. 'I was just wondering how you do do it.''
 He spoke with perfect seriousness, and, after a moment, the girl broke into prolonged peal of laughter.
 "Oh, you are delicious!" she ex- claimed If I could do the ingenue like that believe me, I'd make some hit" She came over, and, laying a hand on each of the boys shoulders kissed him lightly on the cheek That's for droll boy!" she said That's the best line I've heard pulled | lately"
 Farbish was smiling in quiet amuse- ment. He tapped the mountaineer on the shoulder
 I've heard George Lescott speak of you,' he said, genially. I've rather a fancy for being among the discover CTS of men of talent We must see more of eacn other"
 Samson left the party early, and with a sense of disgust. Several days later, Samson was