Transients in Arcadia.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume XLVII, Issue 8023, 9 January 1906, Page 4

Transients in Arcadia.

"«",j» * hotel on Broadway that has Wiped OMOOTery by the summer resort proHours. It u deep and wide and cool. Its rooms are finished in dark oak of a low teniperaturs. Home-made breezes and deepgreen shrubbery give it the delights without we inconveniences of the Adirondacks. One •an mount its broad staircases or glide Areamily upward in its aerial elevators, attended by guides in brass buttons, with a serene joy that Alpine elimbers have never attained. There is a chef in its kitchen who a. ff m for J" a Drook hout belter ' h »n we White Mountains ever served, sea food that would turn Old Point Comfort-" by Gad, sahl"—green with envy, and Maine venison that would melt the official heart of * game warden.

A few have found out this oasis in the July desert of Manhattan. Daring that month you will see the hotel's reduced array of guests scattered luxuriously about in the eool twilight of its lofty dining-room, gazing at one another across the snowy waste of unoccupied tables, silently congratulatory. Superfluous, watchful, pneumatically moving waiters hover near, supplying every want before it is expressed. The temperatare is perpetual April. The ceiling is painted in water colours to counterfeit a summer sky, acroßS which delicate clouds drift and do not vanish as those of nature do to our regret. « The pleasing, distant roar of Broadway is transformed in the imagination of the happy guests to the poise of a waterfall filling the Woods with ;ss restful sound. At every strange footstep the guests turn an anxious ear, fearful lest their retreat be discovered and invaded by the restless pleasure-seekers who are forever hounding nature to her deepest lairs. Thus in the depopulated caravansary tho little band of connoisseurs jealously hide themselves during the heated season, enjoying to the uttermost the delights of mountain and seashore that art and skill have gathered and served to them. In this July came to the hotel one whose card that she sent to the clerk for her name to be registered read " Mine. Heloise D'Arcy Beaumont." Madame Beaumont was a guest such as the Hotel Lotus loved. She possessed the fine air of the elite; tempered Jvntl sweetened by a cordial gntciousness that made the hotel employees her slaves. Bell-boys fought for the honor of answering her ring; the clerks, but for the question of ownership, would have deeded to her the hotel and its contents; the other guests regarded her as the final touch of feminine exclusiveness and beauty that rendered the entourage perfect. This super-excellent guest rarely left the hotel. Her habits were consonant with the customs of the discriminating patrons of the Hotel Lotus. To enjoy that delectable hostelry one must forego the city as if it were leagues away. By night a brief excursion to the near-by roofs is in order; but during the torrid day one remains in the umbrageous fastnesses of the Lotus as a trout hangs poised in ihe pellucid sanctuaries of'his favorite pool. Though alone in the Hotel Lotus, Madame Beaumont preserved the state of a queen whose loneliness was of position only. She breakfasted at ten, a cool, sweet, leisurely, delicate being who glowed softly in Die dimnessjike a jasmine (lower in the dusk. | But at dinner was Madamc's glory in its height. She wore a gown as beautiful and immaterial as the mist from an unseen cataract in a mountain gorge. The nomen;lature of this gown is beyond the guess of a scribe. Always pale-red roses reposed against its lace garnished front. It was a gown that the head waiter viewed with respect and met at the door. You thought of Paris when jou saw it, and uiaybe of mysterious countesses, and certainly of Versailles and rapiers and Mis. risk and rouge-et-noir. There was an untraceable rumor in the Hotel Lotus that Madame was a cosmopolite, and that she was pulling with her slender white hands certain strings between the nations in the favour of liussia. B 'ing A citizeness of the world's smoothest roads, small wonder that she was quick to recognise in the refined purlieus of the Hotel Lotus the most desirable spot in America for a restful sojourn during the heat of midsummer. On the third day of Madame Beaumont's residence in the hotel a young man entered and registered himself as a guest. His clothing—to speak of his points in approved order—was quietly in the mode; his features good and regular; his expression that of a poised and sophisticated man of the world. He informed the clerk that he would remain three or four days, inquired concerning the sailing of European steamships, and sank into the blissful inanition of the nonpareil hotel with the contented air of a traveller in his favorite inn.

The young man—not to question the veracity of the register—was Harold Farrington. He drifted into the exclusive and calm current of life in the Lotus so tactfully and silently that not a ripple alarmed his fellowseekeri after rest. He ate in the Lotus and of its pntrnnym, and was lulled into blissful peace with the other fortunate mariners. In one day he acquired his table and his waiter and the fear lest the panting chasers after reposes that kept B'oad'way warm should pounce upon and destroy this contiguous but covert haven.

Alter dinner on the next day after the arrival of Harold Farrington Madame Beaumont dropped her handkerchief in passing out. Mr. Farrington recovered it, and returned it without the effusiveness of a seeker after acquaintance. Perhaps there was a mystic freemasonry between the discriminating guests of the Lotus. Perhaps they were drawn one to another by the fact of their common good fortune in discovering the acme of summer resorts in a Broadway hotel. Words delicate in courtesy and tentative in departure from formality, passed between the two. And, as if in the expedient atmosphere of a real summet resort, an acquaintance grew, flowered and fructified on the spot as does the mystic plant of the conjuror.'' And for a few moments they stood on a balcony npon which the corridor ended, and tossed the feathery ball o! conversation. " One tires of the old resorts," said Madame Beaumont, with a faint but sweet smile. " What is the use to fly to the mountains or the seashore to escape noise and dust when the very people that make both follow you there?"

j" Even on the ocean," remarked Farrlngtoo, sadly, " the Philistines be upon you. The most exclusive steamers are getting to be scarcely mora than ferryboats, Heaven help us when the summer resorter discovers that the Lotos is farther ana; from Broadway that Thousand Islands or Mackinac." "I hope our secret will be safe for a week, anyhow," said Madame, with a sigh and a smile. "I do not know where I would go if they should descend upon the dear Lotus. I know of but one place so delightful in summer, and that is the Castle of Count Poiinski in the Ural Mountains." - "I hear that Baden-Baden and Cannes an almost deserted this season," said Farrington. "Tear by year the old resorts fall into disrepute. Perhaps many others, like ourselves, are seeking out the quiet nooks that are overlooked by the majority." " I promise myself three days more of this delicious rest," said Madame Beaumont. " On Monday the Cedric sails." Harold Farrington's eyes proclaimed his regret. " I too must leave on Monday," he nil, " bat I do not go abroad."

■Madame Beaumont shrugged one round shoulder in a foreign gesture. " One cannot hide here forever, charming though it may be.. Tho chateau has been in preparation for me longer than a month. Those house parties that one must give—what a nuisance! But I shall never forget my week in tho Hotel Lotus." "Nor shall I," said Farrington in a low voice, "and I shall never forgive the Ccdiie." On Sunday evening, three days afterwaid, the two sat at a little table on die same balcony. A disereol waiter brought ices and small glasses of claret cup. Mailaine Beaumont wore the same b-:ni".;-ful evening gown that she wore each day at dinner. She seemed thoughtful. Near her hand on the table lay a small chatelaine purse. After sho hail eatcu her ice .-lie opened the purse and tool; out it one-i1011..i bill. i "Mr. Farrington," she said, with th..smile that had won the Hotel Lotus, " 1 want to tell you something. I'm going to leave before bieakfust in the morning, I*c?cause I've got to go back to my wo:k. I'm behind the hosiory counter at Casey's mammoth store, and my.'vue.iiion'i. up at eight o'clock to-morrow. That paper dollar is the last cent I'll see till I draw my eight dollars (alary next Saturday night. You're a mil gentleman, and you've been good to me, and I wanted to tell you before 1 went. " I've been saving up out of my wages for a year just for this vacation. I wanted to spend one week like a lady if I never do another one. I wanted to got up when I please instead of having to crawl out at seven everymoming; and I wanted to live on tho best and he waited on mid ring bells for tilings just like rich folk* do. Now I've iluno it, and I've had the happiest lime I ever expect to have in my life. I'm going back to my work and my little hall bedroom satisfied for another year. I wanted to tell yon about it, Mr. Farrington, because I—l thought you kind of liked me, and I—l like 1 you. But, oh, I couldn't help deceiving you up to now, for it was all just lilce a fairy tale tome. Sol talked about Europe and tho things I've read about in other countries, and made you think I was a great iaily. " This dress I've got on—it's the only ono I have that's fit to wear—l bought from O'Dowd & Leviusky on the instalment plan.

"Seventy-five dollars is the price, audit was made to measure. I paid ten dollars down, and they're to collect one dollar a week till it's paid for. That'll be about all I have to say, Mr. Farrington, except that my name is Mamie Siviter instead of Madame Beaumont, and I thank you for your attentions. This dollar will pay the instalment due on the dress to-morrow.' I guess I'll go up to my room now." Harold Farrington listened to the recital of tho Lotus's loveliest guest with an impassive countenance. When sho had concluded he drew a small book like a cheque book from his coat pocket. Ha wrote upon abla.ik form in this with a stub of pencil, tore out the leaf, tossed it over to his companion and took up the paper dollar. "I've got to go to work too in the morning," he said, " and I might as well begin now. There's a receipt for the dollar instalment. I've been a collector for O'Dowd and Leviusky for three years. Funny, ain't it, that you and me both hail the- same idea about spending our vacation ? I've always wanted to put up at a swell hotel, audi saved up out of my 22 per c 'lit. and did it. Say, Maine, how about a Hip to Coney Saturday night on the boat—what? " The face of the pseudo Madame Heloise D'Arcy Beaumont beamed. " Oh, you bet I'll f ;o, Mr. I'.irrington. The store closes at 12 on Silurd.iys. I guess Couey'll be all right even if we did spend a week with the swells."

Below the biioony the sweltering city growled and buzzed in the July night. Inside the Hotel Lotus the tempered, eool shadows reigned, and ttie solicitous wai'i single-footed near the low window-, rcn<i/ .it a nod to serve Madame and her escort. At the door of the elevator F.mii'g-on took his leave, and Madame Beaumont made her last i.scent. But before ihry reached the noiseless cage be said: "Just forget that 'Harold Farrington,' will you?—McMiinus is the name—James McMiinus. Some call me Jimmy." "Good night, Jimmy,'' said Madame. By 0. Moby in N.Y. World.

"English as sho is Spolco." According to the "Bangkok Tiim--," Hie proprietors of a Siiiinsse newspaper have distributed handbills containing the following notice : —" The news of English, oh crumbs, we tell the latest. Writ in perfectly style ftnd most curliest. Do a murder git commit, we hear of and teli it. Do a mighty chief die, oh crumbs, \vc publish it, and in borders of sombre. Bluff has each one been colleged and write, oh crumbs, like the Kippliug and the Dickens. Weitiicle every town and extortionate not for advertise l merit. Buy it, oh crumbs. Buy it. Tell each of you its greatness fur good. Oh crumbs. Heady on Friday. Number first."

"Bfsad and Cheese and Kisses." In the. remotest ages men saluted the sun, moon, and stars, by kissing the hand. It was the custom of the earliest Christian bishops to give their hands to be kissed by the ministers who served at the altar. The custom soon declined, however, as a religious ceremony, but it is still continued as a Court ceremonial, the kissing of the band of the sovereign being regarded as a marl; of the highest favor in most of the kingdoms of Christendom. It is a matter of history that the beautiful Duchess of Devonshire bribed with a kiss many a reluctant voter for Fox in the famous Westminister election, and the equally beautiful mid bevvi'cliing Lady Gordon, when the Scottish regiments bad been thinned by cruel reverses, turned recruiting sergeant, and to tempt the gallant lads placed the recruiting shilling in her lips, whence he who would might take it with his own. In Finland the women consider a salute upon the lips us the greatest insult; even from their own husbands. It was at one time the custom of English duellists to kiss each other before firing. This piece of hypocrisy was satirised by John Wesley in his Journal under date June 10th, 1738, recording a duel between two officers at Limerick: Mr. B. proposed firing at twelve yards. Mr. J. said, 1 No; six is enough.' So they kissed en;;h other (poor farce!), and before they were five pacesasunder, both fired at the instant." '.Mohammedans on their pious pilgrimage to Mecca, kiss the sacred black stone and the four corners of the Kaaba. The Romish priest on Palm Sunday kisses tln'palm. There is a curious tradition about the origin of kissing the toe of tho Sovereign Pontiff. It is said that one of the Leos substituted the toe for the right hand as the object o[ salute because his own right hand had been mutilated by misadventure and he was too vain to expose the stump. In Iceland kissing is severely repressed by the civil laws, and the consent of the lady to the salutation does not release the male transgressor from the liability to heavy punish ment. In Russia the Easter salutation is & ki;s. Each member of the family salutea theothor. Chance acquaintances kiss when ',bsy meet. Principals kiss their employes, the general kissel his officers; the officer! iiss their solders ; the Czar kisses his . 'umily, retinue, court and attendants, and ;ven his officers on parade, the sentinels at Ihe palace gates, and a select party of private loldiers. In short, Eastertide in Russia is ft .•arnival of" bread and cheese and kisseß."