Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-07-13

YOUNG American girl, smiling quizz-
ically, perched herself on high stool
~ in front Of the one of the new per-
fume bars that are "le dernier cri'
of Paris, took satisfied glimpse into
the big mirror, powdered her nose and anchor
ed her elbows on the mahogany
Can you mix me somtning that will syn
chronize with my personality, Arsene?"
with pleasure, mademoiselle," and the very
slim young man with the pink silk jacket flow
ing tie and romantic eyes, who wrote cubist
verses in his of hours, gazed dreamily at his
fair client If he were trying to fathom her
soul catch her aura.
Then he turned and surveyed row after row
of dainty bottles, containing the essences
with which he concocted the new personal per-
fumes.
If mademoiSele agrees" and he made a
sweeping bow as he turned toward her again.
IT propose strange, mysterious scent, though
quite faint with just a suggestion of the ORR
ent in it-something that makes one think of q
fascinating young Persian Sultana lounging in
the harem. an ancient Pharaohonic Princess
adjoining herself for the King sacred Hindu
temple danseuse whirling before the burning
incense, a nymph of antiquity cavorting
through sweet-smelling forests. We must Gre
ate for you, and for you alone, the ambient
of a Sappho or Cleopatra. No other woman
in the whole world must know the secret. 1t
will be yours, yours, yours
"Ahi" The poets whole body again trem-
bled with the intense emotion of his nspira-
tion Divine lady, under the mesmeric in
f1uence of the exquisite masterpiece of per-
fumery that shall create, I actually see you
as Cleopatra, floating down the Nile a
magnificent barge, with Antony at your feet,
your slaves tanning you, the silver cymbals
tinkling, the"
IAN right, Arsene, then wake up and hop
to it, the young American blasely commanded
him. You have a good line, but only fifteen
minutes to do your stuff"
ROUSING himself from his reverie, the poet
perfumer picked up thin glass test tube
and threw another fond glance at his long
row Of essences. He decided on a mauve-col-
ored liquid and let two tiny drops fall into his
tube. This is the most highly concentrated
form of romance ever discovered by science"
he explained with dignity. cit is very secret
substance made from an herb that grows on
top of the Himalaya Mountains. The Tibetan
lamas discovered its peculiar properties many
centuries ago. 1t costs 500 ounce I use
it as the base of all my blends hundredth
part of drop carelessly swished under mans
nose will make him abandon his family and
follow the sirens.''
After that two drops of a green liquid also
designed to arouse even the most placid affec-
tions; several faint Western perfumes to COM
plicate the mystery and then tiny bit of an
ancient Chinese scent to give it an Oriental
bouquet.
We call it "A Symphony in Mauve' if made
mosele approves Arsene murmured hope
fully as he gently stirred his sample. Made
moiseLe, who was falling under the spell of
his vocal art, pleasantly nodded assent.
I FITTING the masterpiece with his finger
tips after the manner of the most deli
cate diettante, Arsene poured the precious con-
coction into tiny gold atomizer and sprayed
trifle over his clients sleeves. Then one sniff,
an agonzed look and the poet let out a shrek.
He pulled his hair, twisted himself into contor-
tions and gave all the indications of person
in great mental pain. A deep flush, obviously
shame crept over his handsome face right up
to the top Of his ears.
mo. no, a thousand times no." he stam-
mered, breaking into his native tongue and
commencing to talk to himself.
But find it is marvellous" the American
girl protested earnestly. Simply dream. I
have never had any perfume I liked so much.
Please, oh, please. let me try it again"
Arsene, however, continued to trembe like q
man with the ague. His nostris twitched con-
ullslvely. His head shook despondently. He
wrllng his hands.
No, no." he protested sadly ST am ruined,
o1shonored, marked man for life. shall do
as Vatei did when the fish failed to arrive for
tne Kings dnner-mpale myself on a sword.
what stupidity! have made an admirable
mixture, but 1t Is not quite the right thing for
your personality. It's q bit too obvious. II
maoemoiselle were o pale, frail blonde, who