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PRICE,
50 CENTS.
The Pearl of Seville
ILLUSTRATED.
JAMES RAMIREZ vfc (
William Street, Nets
CARMENCITA
THE PEARL OF SEVILLE
BY
PROFESSOR JAMES RAMIREZ
-—
J
.
New York :
Press o
f The Law and Trade Printing Co.,
220 and 222 William Street.
1890,
Copyright.
(All rights reserved.)
O child of Genius, with thy wondrous power
To sway men's hearts as wind-blown flower,
Who can portray, or what expressions tell
The witcheries that in thy lithe form dwell?
-Fanny May Ramirez.
How I love, my languid girl.
Your voluptuous motion ;
Flashing as a s'ar might swirl
'Cross the starry ocean.
There is music's sweetest rhyme
In your swaying roll,
Like a serpent keeping time
On a balanced pole.
When your head bows 'neath the burden
Of its sweet idlesse,
Every motion seems a guerdon
Of a soft caress.
And your body sways and fails
As a vessel might,
When its full-blown snowy sails
Touch the breakers white.
— Baudelaire.
When you dance, I would you were a wave of the sea,
That yon might dance forever.
— Ska kespea re.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER. PAGE.
I. Carmencita
II. The Dance -
III. At Home •
IV. The Haunted Chateau -
V. The Abduction -
VI. Foiled - 63
VII. The Duel - ... . - 66
VIII. In America .... y^
IX. The Suicide of Armand - - So
X. Carmencita's Dream.
7
15
25
39
50
95
Life of Carmencita - - - - -in
CARMENCITA
THE PEARL OF SEVILLE.
CHAPTER I.
CARMENCITA.
" Have you seen Carmencita ? "
The speaker was the Marquis de Lou-
bens, and the person he addressed was
his most intimate friend, the Viscount
Armand de Sallauness, who had but a
week before returned from abroad and
whose statuesque proportions of form and
fair, handsome, patrician face were the
admiration of all the fair sex of Paris.
" No; I have not yet had that doubtful
8 Carmcncita.
pleasure," replied Armand, while he toyed
with the tassels of his smoking gown and
puffed at his fragrant Havana.
"Ye gods! hear the man talk," ejacu-
lated the Marquis, lifting his eyes heaven-
ward. "He has been in Paris a whole
week and has not seen the charming, the
fascinating Carmencita who is the craze
of Paris. And, Oh! ye gods! how in
fancy I can see you laughing when you
hear him call it a doubtful pleasure to see
er.
" And pray, what may this divine crea-
ture be like ?" inquired Armand banter-
ingly, with a half indolent, half sarcastic
smile flitting across his lips, "that she
makes even the blase Marquis de Lou-
bens grow enthusiastic, when I have often
heard him declare that no woman now
possessed the power to charm him ?''
"Ah!" returned the Marquis with the
most expressive of glances and gestures,
Carmencita. 9
" but, when I said that, I had not yet seen
Carmencita."
" You ask me what she is like ? '' he con-
tinued after a brief silence, while he
dreamily watched the perfumed rings of
smoke that floated from his cigar grow
thin and vanish in the air, " Blame me
not if words fail me when I attempt to an-
swer you."
"She is," he continued, "the most
lovely and graceful woman, I think, that
God has ever created, for she has a face
whose complexion seems made out of
magnolia and rose leaves ; her eyes are
dark as midnight with the most brilliant
of starry gleams shooting through them,
or as one of her numerous admirers has
more originally decribed them, 'like deep,
dark pools whose flashing ripples when
put in motion make the head swim ' ; her
forehead is low like the antique foreheads,
but full and perfect in form and united
IO Car meruit a.
with a nose as finely chiseled as a cameo,
and her lips are like pouting rosebuds
and full of unbridled voluptuousness that
discloses, when she smiles, two rows of
the most even and pearly teeth, while her
luxuriant hair that frames all is as black
as the raven's wing.''
" And in addition to all these charms/'
he went on, " she has a form — but there,
I'm done for. My rhetoric fails me, for
no words of mine can describe the grace
and witcheries of that, and I can only say
what I have heard artists and sculptors
declare, that she looks when she glides
upon the stage like some goddess who has
come down from her pedestal, and ex-
presses in her every movement the incar-
nation of the poetry of motion, the
rhythm of music, and the beauty of plas-
tic and painted art."
" I will confess, Marquis," said Armand,
now thoroughly interested, "that you
Carmencita.
II
have excited my curiosity to see this divin-
ity who makes men's hearts mad with
love and has evidently numbered you
among her victims, and if you have no
other engagement, I will accompany you
to-night to the Theatre where she
is at present appearing."
"You will never regret it, old boy,''
enthusiastically and smilingly declared
the Marquis, " for it will mark a most
eventful epoch in the history of your life-
time, for to quote at random what the
press says of her; ' no dancer like her has
ever been seen on any stage, for her danc-
ing is so original and individual that she
consigns even Taglioni to the shades of
oblivion. Her performance is made up of
every quality the human body is capable
of expressing, and only a Theophile
Gautier might paint a picture of the mad-
dening fire and fury, the voluptuousness
and grace, and audacity of her dance."'
12 ^ Carmencita.
" Indeed, he might well write of it as he
did the dancing of Cleopatra when she
danced before one of her lovers who died
of love for her — heart consuming love.
Sensual pleasure, burning passion, youth
inexhaustible and ever fresh — the promise
of bliss to come — she expresses all."
"And with all, I can assure you, i\r-
mand, that there is nothing of the cheap
flashing inartistic motions indulged in by
her as of ordinary ballet dancers, and she
must be seen to be appreciated, for she
goes far beyond the most extravagant
ideas which may be formed in advance of
her terpsichorean achievements."
" The saints be praised then," devoutly
exclaimed Armand, when at last the Mar-
quis concluded his enthusiastic descrip-
tion, panting for breath, "that I am going
to see her.''
" But, 'pon my soul, Marquis," he added
laughingly, " I must say that your elo-
Carmencita. i
j
quence has completely overwhelmed me,
for I have never given you credit before
for possessing such a Cicero-like gift,
and—"
" But, be warned in time, Armand/' in-
terrupted the Marquis, who had recovered
his breath again, "for Carmencita, although
enjoying flattery, as is as natural for
a lovely woman to do as for the flowers to
enjoy the dew and sunlight, is not like
other footlight favorites who have danced
their way into hearts before her, for she is
impervious to its honeyed tongue, and
none of the pretty baubles which the young
swells and biases bald-headed roue's nightly
shower upon her has proved to win from
her in exchange her virtue, that priceless
jewel of womanhood."
"And,'' he continued, "as far as the
grand and mighty passion the world calls
love is concerned, she lias but the sleep-
ing heart and soul of a little child, and
14 Car v,ic ncit a.
the only master to which she owes alle-
giance is her art. That she considers
to be ennobling and inspiring, while she
simply longs, when her task of winning
fresh plaudits and laurels is over, to return
to her own native country, and there be-
neath its sunny skies and amid its stately
palaces and sparkling fountains, accom-
panied by the dreamy music of the man-
dolin and guitar, and clicking of castanets,
dance solely for her own amusement and
that of her family and most intimate
friends.''
CHAPTER II.
THE DANCE.
" Frail as fair," was the verdict that Ar-
mand's hitherto easy conquests had made
him pass upon the opposite sex, and it was
a new experience for him to hear of a poor
and beautiful danseuse whose character,
like that of Caesar's wife, was above re-
proach.
And he was secretly piqued after hear-
ing the story of Carmencita's unapproach-
able purity, and mentally determined that
he, if no other had, would storm the
hitherto impenetrable fortress, and make
her cold heart thrill and melt before the
warmth and power of his love.
1 6 The Dance.
He made a most elaborate toilet for the
theatre that evening, and, with his heart •
wildly beating with curiosity and excite-
ment, went forth with the determination
to conqueror die in the attempt.
When the hour for the performance
had arrived and the Marquis and Armand
had taken the seats assigned them, after
consulting his programme and glancing
about him, Armand turned to his friend
and said :
" The house is well crowded to-night.''
" It is no marvel,'' answered the Mar-
quis, " when Carmencita is on the bill, for
such talents and beauty, and above all,
such magnetism as she possesses cannot
fail to draw.'
When at last the curtain was rung up
and the orchestra burst into the opening
crash of music, Armand could scarcely
control his impatience while waiting until
the other performers, who were on the bill
The Dance. \J
before her, bad performed their parts and
Carmencita would appear.
But all time has an end, and at last it
came — the moment for which he had so
eagerly waited. The band suddenly broke
into a quick Spanish movement that
seemed fraught with passion and sunshine
and a shower of bouquets fell upon the
stage, while there came a burst of such
loud applause from the crowded audience
that the theatre rocked and trembled
as if in the throes of an earthquake.
A lithe, agile figure .had glided upon the
stage, clad in a gorgeous costume of pink
silk and black lace that was embroidered
with gold and decorated with coins, and
the skirt of which was just short enough
to reveal the exquisitely formed ankles
and the dainty satin slippers with their
high heels like miniature stilts.
It was Carmencita.
For a moment she lingered with her
1 8 The Dance.
head poised backward and only her toes
touching the stage, as some glorious crim-
son rose does before it gracefully sways
upon the summer breeze, and then, lifting
one dainty foot, she began her dance that
could only be described as a complete set
of movements made up of crouchings and
springs, serpentine curves, contortions,
gyrations, evolutions, convolutions, whirl-
ings and twirlings, so that the dancer ap-
peared in the height of its delirium on
the point of going to pieces.
The fires of passion within her showed
through every undulation of her perfect
body as in her brightly blazing eyes, and
after each voluptuous and sinuous move-
ment she turned a dazzling but enigmati-
cal smile to the audience, that was at once
apologetic and triumphant, inviting and
repelling.
It was such a dance with its audacious
whirl and swirl, swaying backward and
The Dance. \g
forward and sidewise, such as might have
been danced by the bacchantes who knew
how to madden the revellers of old, and
before it was ended the men were in a
fever, and the women filled with an
excitment that made them flush with a
natural color beneath the rouge on their
faces.
Her constant kaleidoscopic changing
of attitudes showed forth the grace of the
brilliant quivering of the humming bird,
the blowing of flowers in the wind, the
rippling of the waves of the sea, the
shooting and sparkling of a flame of fire,
the waving of banners on the breeze, and
depicted every phase of the poetry of
motion.
Just as the audience were wondering
with dreamy and breathless expectancy
what new and eccentric innovation she
would show next, she gave a bewildering
whirl that revealed a tantalizing glimpse
20 The Dance.
of the rosy pink of her stockings and the
snowy lace of her petticoats. There was a
final crash of music, and she gracefully
bowed her exit and vanished as suddenly
as she had come.
Round after round of thunderous ap-
plause burst from the delighted audience,
that would not be stilled until she had
responded to their encore.
As she stood before them with her
beautiful face flushed and her bosom
heaving with excitement and exertion,
bowing the thanks she had not the breath
to utter, and walled in by the floral
tributes rained upon her, Armand, Vis-
count de Sallauness, with his handsome
face alternately flushing and paling and
his heart thrilling as it had never thrilled
before, gazed as one spell-bound upon her
for a time.
Then half rising in his seat, when the
throwing of the other floral tributes had
Uie Dance. 2i
ceased, he threw a superb wreath of crim-
son roses upon the stage.
Carmencita glanced in the direction
from whence the wreath came and, seeing
the handsome smiling face of the giver,
she smiled in return at him, and after the
most graceful and bewitching of bows,
stooped and picked up the wreath from
where it had fallen at her feet and coquet-
tishly placing it as a crown on her
beautiful hair, began another dance that
made her seem nothing but a flashing,
flying, bounding dream, and left one thrill-
ed and shaken and mystified with the
power of its effect.
Almost maddened now with excitement,
Armand turned to the Marquis and said :
" De Loubens, you know her, you must
present me at once, to-night."
The Marquis shrugged his shoulders
and with a slow, lazy smile, answered :
" I see you are hard hit, Armand, and
22 The Dance.
I suppose, if I refuse to grant your wish,
you will find some other way of gratifying
it. But I suppose the usual denouement
will follow ; the madness of love while it
is fresh upon you, then
' A passion grown tired,'
and finally desertion of the object that in-
spired it, while you worship at some new
shrine."
" It will not be the case with Carmen-
cita,'' ardently returned Armand, " for she
is a woman a man could never tire of, and
I would be willing, if need be, to make her
my countess."
"My ! you really are far gone this time,
Armand," laughingly declared the Mar-
quis after giving his forehead a significant
tap with his finger.
When at last the performance was
ended, Armand at once made his way
toward the green room accompanied by
The Dance. 23
the Marquis, who at once presented him
to Carmencita.
She had removed her gorgeous dancing
costume and was now attired in a plain
and sober nun-like dress of deepest black
that threw into lustrous relief the ivory -
like whiteness of her skin.
Armand possessed all that graceful and
courtly gallantry of demeanor which goes
so far to win a woman's heart, and as Cnr-
mencita acknowledged the introduction
to him and felt the burning gaze that he
fixed upon her face, while he bowed low
over her little white hand, and listened
while he conversed with her in the rich
musical voice that was one of his greatest
charms, it was no marvel that her eyes
brightened, the most dazzling of smiles
played about her lips, and the rose flush
deepened in her face.
Noting this, the heart of Armand thrilled
24 The Dance.
with triumph, but he carefully concealed
his feelings.
Knowing that she could not be won by
jewels and other glittering inducements
dear to most women's hearts, he adopted
a new role in the winning of her.
He treated her with the utmost re-
spect, and the flattering speeches that he
gallantly whispered to her were as delicate
as any he wo'uld have offered to a queen.
CHAPTER III.
AT HOME.
From that time Carmencita possessed
no more devoted admirer than Armand,
Viscount de Sallauness.
As soon as he reached his own exqui-
sitely furnished bachelor apartments
with his excitement still strong upon
him, he opened the richly leather-
bound and gilt-edged diary in which it
was his daily custom to chronicle the
most important events of his daily life and
wrote ;
" To-night has indeed been one of the
most eventful epochs in the history of my
lifetime, as the Marquis declared to me
26 At Home.
this afternoon it would be, for I have seen
Carmencita — the one woman in the world
whom I could truly love and am willing,
if need be, to make my Countess."
And after he retired, all night her lovely
face and form floated before him in his
dreams, alternately whirling before him in
the dizzy mazes of her dances, and rest-
ing in his arms, while he gratified his
secret longing by pressing the most pas-
sionate of kisses upon her.
When the morning dawned he rose
much earlier than was his wont, and, after
his valet dc chambre had assisted him in
making his toilet, he sallied forth to the
nearest florist's and purchased a costly
basket that he had filled with rare orchids
and fringed with maiden hair ferns.
This he directed to be sent to Carmen-
cita, after attaching to it a card bearing
his name and compliments.
When this was done, his next act was to
At Home. 27
go to the theatre where she was engaged,
and purchase seats for himself and the
Marquis in advance up to the time when
her engagement would end there.
Then he returned to his apartments
again, and with feverish impatience
watched the hands of the ormolu time-
piece in the velvet-draped mantel that
seemed hours in moving only seconds,
until the hour came when the Marquis
had promised to accompany him for a call
on Carmencita.
The Marquis came promptly at the
hour appointed, and soon Armand had the
happiness of again being in the presence
of her who had cast such a spell about
him with her wondrous grace and loveli-
ness, and feeling the warm, clinging touch
of her hand, listening to the sweet tones
of her musical voice, and watching the
ever-varying beauties of her face, and her
graceful movements that were more tire-
28 At Home.
less and capricious than those of the pil-
fering bee.
She was attired in a dress of crimson,
trimmed with golden fringe, that was most
becoming to her dark beauty, and after
greeting the Marquis and Armand with a
most ravishing smile, she seated herself in
an attitude of the most graceful aban-
don on a low divan near the latter, making
him feel as if he had suddenly been trans-
ported to Paradise.
It had often been said of Armand that
he ought to go about the world labelled
dangerous, so far as the opposite sex was
concerned, as he had about him an all-
compelling persuasiveness that few women
could or cared to resist; in addition, he pos-
sessed a gift of eloquence that, aided by
the rich, musical tones of his voice, com-
pletely enthralled the hearts and senses of
his hearers, hypnotising them, as it were.
But now, for the first time, his ever-ready
At Home. 29
eloquence had suddenly deserted him and
he was strangely silent before this queenly
star of the footlights, whose presence rose
to his brain like the fumes of strong alcohol.
" I bless the lucky star that made me
learn to speak Spanish," he at last found
courage to say, after he had replied in
monosyllables to the remarks she had
addressed to him about the weather, and
told him how much she had admired the
beautiful orchids that he had that morn-
ing sent to her.
" For," he added with a most expressive
glance, " I would not have liked to be
under the disagreeable necessity of speak-
ing to you through an interpreter, as so
many of your admirers are."
Just then a ring which she had been
slipping off and on her finger suddenly
rolled upon the floor, and Armand grace-
fully went down on his hands and knees
and commenced a search for it.
30 At Home.
After restoring the ring to her and be-
fore he rose, he imprinted a quick, burning
kiss on her exquisitely curved instep.
" Don't be so foolish," she said with
an imperious tone in her voice, while she
stamped her tiny slippered foot, and with
a crest-fallen look on his face that was as
flushed as if he had been drinking of some
strong wine, Armand rose from his knees
and again resumed his seat.
At that moment some of her Spanish
friends were announced, who had brought
with them two boxes of grapes, black
Hambras and sea-green Muscats, that
were Carmencita's favorite fruit.
Quickly leaving Armand's side, she
made her way to the table and began
arranging them in the fruit dish in fan-
tastic pyramids to suit her fancy.
Then, while one of the Spaniards
played the sprightly air of the fandango
on the guitar, she began to dance to its
At Home. 31
music, and in a burst of childish gayety
to romp about the room throwing first a
bunch of black and then a bunch of green
grapes over her shoulder, " as an omen of
good luck ' she declared, until there
seemed to be no limit to her noisy and
frolicksome gladness.
At last, tired with her exertion she
seated herself on the divan at Armand's
side again, and as he watched her with all
his intense soul looking out of the deep
blue gray depths of his eyes and took in
every detail of her rare loveliness and
graces, he noted that even her panting
revealed a new poetry of motion.
Taking up a superb fan lying near her,
she coquetted with it as only a Spanish
girl can do, while she answered the many
questions put to her.
" Senorita Carmencita, " said the Mar-
quis de Loubens, suddenly turning to her
with a courtly bow, " I wish you would
3.2 At Home.
graciously oblige me by relating for my
friend Armand's benefit here, the amus-
ing story I have heard you tell of how
you were taken prisoner by the Bandit
Chief in Spain when a little girl, while on
your way to give the money for masses
for the repose of the soul of your uncle's
mother-in-law, to the fathers in the
church."
Carmencita smiled a rare smile that
brought into bewildering play all her
dimples, and then began :
" It was while I was living with my un-
cle and aunt on a little farm near Madrid,
and although I was very young, I was
big enough to be trusted with money. So
my aunt sent me one day with a purse
filled with gold for masses to the priests
of the Church of the Escurial, which is
over the vaults where the dead Kings
and Queens of Spain are lying."
" It also contains 7,400 relics, including
At Home. 33
the bodies of 7008 saints, twelve dozen
whole heads, and three dozen. legs and
arms. It also had, until it was stolen, the
monster gridiron upon which St. Lawrence
was roasted, and one of his feet with a
piece of coal sticking between the toes.
He was the saint, you remember, who
bore his martyrdom with such courage
that he said to his executioners, " I am
done on this side ; perhaps you had better
turn me over "; whence comes the Spanish
proverb, "cooked to a turn."
" I was driving a donkey laden with
onions and eggs to be also given to the
priests for food, and although I was com-
pelled to pass through a part of the coun-
try infested with brigands, I had no fear,
but went along merrily, for I thought
they did not annoy any except rich trav-
ers.
" But, suddenly, I found myself sur-
rounded by fierce looking men and my
— — - ■ _ — 1 .,..'—
\A. At Home.
ox
donkey was taken from me, while I was
escorted to the presence of the bandit
chief, a tall, handsome man in the hid-
den cave near by that was his home."
" He asked me my name and I tremb-
lingly answered ' Carmen,' and after he
had heard it he smiled and said, ' Well,
Carmencita, don't be frightened and per-
haps I will let you go home soon,' and
that was the first time I was ever called
Carmencita, which means little Carmen,
and I have liked and kept' the name ever
since."
" Then he asked me for the money for
the masses I had hidden in my bodice,
and when I asked him how he knew I
had it, he only laughed and bade one of
his women take it from me."
" I told him not to take it or the ven-
geance of the saints would be upon him,
as it was for holy uses, but although he
laughed again, and gave me a cup of
At Home. 35
wine, bidding me keep still, I saw that my
pleadings were having some effect upon
him and other members of the band, for
the Spaniards from the highest to the
lowest are a truly religious people."
" Meanwhile the band was busily en-
gaged in eating the fresh eggs that had
been converted into omelettes, and the
crisp onions that my aunt had given me
for the use of the fathers, and as I
watched them I hoped they would choke
them."
"After they had eaten them all, one of
their number began playing a mandolin
and naturally I began tapping the ground
and nodding in time with the music."
" The chief noticed this, and exclaimed,
' Ah, Carmencita, I see you dance,' and
then he bade me rise and show them what
I could do.''
" I prayed to the saints silently for help
and I believe that they inspired me, for
36 At Home.
I danced so that I soon had all the bandits
in ecstacy, while they loudly applauded
me and called out, ' Bravisima,' ' After
dancing for nearly an hour I was ready to
give up with exhaustion when the hand-
some robber chief kindly bade me to
stop, and after giving me back my mass
money, and taking up a collection for me
from his men besides for my dancing, he
sent for my donkey and escorted me to a
safe road, and, before parting from me,
gave me a curiously bent piece of iron
that he told me would preserve me from
all harm in any part of Spain where his
fellow craftsmen were, and I have the
piece of iron yet and treasure it as a
mascot. "
After thanking her for the story, the
Marquis and Armand rose to take their
departure and although Armand could
scarcely bear to tear himself away, lie con-
soled himself with the thought that he
At Home. 37
would see her again at the theatre that
evening.
After murmuring his adieus to her, he
passionately quoted :
Life in thy presence were a thing to keep,
A dream through which one would forever sleep.
She smiled one of her slow, wreathing
smiles, and while she flashed the light of
her golden eyes full into his passion-
flushed face, said, " adios, vial mucliaco"
(adieu, bad boy), in her pretty Spanish
way, and so he passed out of her raptur-
ous presence.
When he found himself outside, Ar-
mand turned to the Marquis and said :
What a wonderful girl or woman she is !
for
Her beauty is a witch against whose charms
Ice turneth into lire.
" Yes, indeed, she is a wonderful wo-
man," laughingly answered the Marquis,
" and before you spoke, I was thinking
38 At Home.
that she might breathe the breath of life
into even a man of marble and make him
share in her superabundant passion, and
that,
' When around her black eyes throw
Loving looks from 'neath their lashes,
The veriest saint e'er lived below
To touch her garment's hem, I trow
Would give his relics and his ashes.' ''
CHAPTER IV.
THE HAUNTED CHATEAU.
There was another devoted admirer that
Carmencita possessed, and that was the
Italian Count Marco Durazzi, who, after
beholding her when she first appeared on
the stage in the Cervantes Theatre in
Spain, had ever lingered as near her as it
was possible for him to do, and at last
followed her when she left Spain for
Paris.
Unlike Armand, the passion he had
conceived for her was not mixed with any
motives to win her in an honorable way
if others failed, for " although she was as
beautiful as a dream," he told himself," and
=•
40 The Haunted Chateau.
she thrilled his heart as no other woman
had done before her," she was but a poor
danseuse, and he, the Count Durazzi,
must wed a wealthy wife who could help
him to maintain his title in proper style
and improve his estates that were sadly
in need of repairs.
Like most men of his class he clung to
the belief that any woman who danced
before the footlights could be won in time
by devotion and flattery aided with pres-
ents of costly jewels, and .promises of a
home of luxury where she would live as
a very queen.
So he constantly followed Carmencita
and besieged her with all his attentions,
and whispered the most flattering of
speeches in her ear, while scarce a day
passed that he did not present her with
some beautiful jewels or other costly
trifles dear to the feminine heart.
As for Carmencita, every time she
The Haunted Chateau. 41
looked into his dark handsome face whose
only repulsive feature was the malignant
light he could not repress, that ever
and anon flamed from his dark eyes, a
feeling of aversion for him stole over her
that she could not conquer, and, when he
would kiss her little white hand, she
would shudder as if a serpent had crawled
its slimy way across it.
She could not tell why it was so for he
was handsome and so devoted and gen-
erous to her, but still the aversion was
there as has been so quaintly described in
the words :
" I do not like thee, Doctor Fell.
The reason why I cannot tell."
And after awhile she gave him plainly
to understand, as a woman can, that his
attentions were not agreeable to her, and
refused to accept any more of his gifts.
Her coldness, instead of quenching it,
only seemed to inflame his mad passion
42 The Haunted Chateau.
for her, and he determined to conquer her
and have the triumph of winning her in
spite of all obstacles.
For he possessed one of those fiery im-
petuous, but still patient natures, that stub-
bornly refuses to be discouraged, and
would do and dare anything in order to
attain a desired object.
And now, after following her to Paris,
where she had at once become the craze
of the Boulevards, and was surrounded
by so many admirers, he scarcely had an
opportunity to speak to her. When he
did, she treated him with increased indif-
ference and coldness, and refused to accept
even a gift of the smallest value from him.
He grew mad with the repressed longings
within him, so that he determined on a
bold coup de main to win her.
He resolved that
" All's fair in love and war,"
and that, as he had not been able to win
The Haunted Chateau 43
her in a fair way, he would have to em-
ploy foul means to do so.
And this resolve of his took the form of
a plan to abduct her and force her 10
yield to his wishes.
His next act, after making this deter-
mination, was to find a place to take her
to from which it would be impossible for
her to escape, until he was ready to have
her do so.
Some three or four miles drive from
Paris was an old and ruined chateau that
was situated in the midst of a dense wood,
and that was shunned by every one near
and far because of the strange stories told
of it by those who had passed it late at
night, of piercing shrieks that issued from
it and ghostly faces and sulphurous lights
seen at its windows.
For many years its only living occu-
pants had been the
" Spiders and rats,
Owls and bats,"
<t_c.-T__
44 The Haunted Chateau.
who had made it their abode, until one
day it was at last hired from the agent who
had charge of it, by the old Italian, Beppo
Galletto, and his wife, Angela.
After that the old chateau was shunned
more than ever, for people who had been
afraid to pass it only at night, now avoided
it even in the broad light of day, as mar-
vellous stories were told of Angela's super-
natural powers of witchcraft, and of her hus-
band's laboratory where were compounded
the subtle and deadly poisons, the receipts
of which had been confided to one of his
ancestors by the Borgias.
And added to these terrors that the old
chateau now possessed for the people,
of being haunted, and the abode of those
of whom it was whispered they had
" Sold their souls to Satan,"
there was in league with them a large
bloodhound, made fiercer by being
The Haunted Chateau. 45
kept half-starved, which roamed about
it.
And it was in this much dreaded place
that Count Marco had cruelly decided to
imprison the beautiful Carmencita.
The day after he had made this decision
he made his way toward the chateau, after
providing himself first with a quantity of
fresh meat to win the good-will of the blood-
hound, and arming himself with a pistol,
in case his overtures to the beast failed
to have the desired effect.
When at last he reached the chateau,
(the evil one, as it seems, always helps his
own, as he is declared to do), the Count,
most fortunately for him, encountered
old Beppo at the gate, whom he at once
addressed in Italian.
Seeing in the Count a fellow country-
man, the old man at once invited him to
enter and go with him to the chateau,
first bidding the bloodhound, now sav-
46 The Haunted Chateau.
agely leaping about, to lie down, and
which was satisfied to do so after the
meat had been thrown it.
When they reached the chateau, old An-
gela, after receiving a sign from her hus-
band, dropped a courtesy to the Count,
and with a smile that she meant to be
winning, but which only rendered her
hideous face more repulsive, invited him
to be seated.
As he found himself shut in alone from
the outer world with this mysterious and
uncanny looking couple, the Count, whose
boast had always been that his nerves were
as strong as if made from steel, and that
he feared neither God, man, nor the devil,
could not repress a momentary secret
shuddering and feeling of terror.
For old Beppo had the appearance of
one who has been for some days dead
with his pallid, half-livid complexion and
dark eyes set so deep in his head they had
The Haunted Chateau. 47
the look at a distance of empty sockets.
He wore a sort of dressing gown over
which were woven strange hieroglyphics,
scorpions, snakes and grinning skulls,
while Angela, who was just the opposite
of being the angelic being that her name
signified, was clad in a loose-fitting robe
made of the same material, and as she bent
her repulsive and wrinkled face, with its
eyes as black as coals lit by lurid lights as
of flames of fire, and skin as yellow as the
immense hoops of gold swinging from her
ears, over the great open fire-place, while
she stirred the broth that was cooking
there, she reminded the Count of the evil
witches in Lady Macbeth watching the
brewing of their cauldrons.
The Count at once made known to
Beppo the object of his visit, and, as he
concluded, drew forth from his pocket
a well-filled purse of shining gold coins
and extended it to the old Italian, stating
48 The Haunted Chateau.
that it was but a first payment, if he
would aid him in his plan for abducting
Carmencita and keeping her a prisoner in
the chateau.
With his ghastly looking eyes bright-
ened with the avaricious light that had
leaped into them at sight of the gold,
Beppo assured the Count that he was
henceforth his most willing slave, and
that with him and Angela, his wife, as
her keepers, Carmencita's escape would be
impossible, if she could be safely conveyed
to the chateau.
" I have arranged for that, Signor Bal-
letto,'' said the Count with an evil smile,
and then, while the smile deepened on his
lips, he confided to the old man how he
had bribed Carmencita's coachman, and
that he, the Count, intended to be se-
creted in her cab when it was time for her
to leave the theatre for her home, and
that if no one else accompanied her, as
The Haunted Chateau. 49
soon as he found himself alone in it with
her to still any screams or struggles she
would give at sight of him by quickly ap-
plying to her nostrils a handkerchief he
would bring with him saturated with
chloroform.
" Your plan is a very good one, Count,"
said Beppo, " and you are just the man
carry it out, and any time you bring
the fair Carmencita here, you will find me
ready to receive her.''
Then the Count took his leave, after
promising that he would bring his pris-
oner to the chateau on the following
evening, if possible.
CHAPTER V.
THE ABDUCTION.
It was the evening following Count
Marco's visit to the old chateau, and Car-
mencita, after dancing as usual to a
crowded and appreciative audience,
wearied with exertion and excitement at
last, left the theatre for her home.
There was no moon out, and the curb-
stone, before which her cab was drawn
up, was shrouded in darkness, and, as she
stepped gracefully into it, after waving
her adieus to the crowd of friends and
admirers who were gathered outside of
the theatre to watch her take her depart-
ure, she did not see the figure muffled in
The Abduction. 51
deepest black that was crouched in the
corner of the furthest side.
As soon as the coachman had turned
the corner, he whipped up his horses which
started on a mad race, and then Carmen-
cita became aware of the figure secreted in
the cab for she felt herself suddenly seized
in a pair of strong arms, while, before she
could utter a single cry, she felt a hand-
kerchief saturated with chloroform pressed
to her nostrils and inhaled its pungent
odor.
She struggled violently for a moment,
but as the chloroform finished its work,
her struggles ceased and she lay back
limp and unconscious in the Count's
arms.
When the Count reached the chateau,
he found old Beppo and Angela awaiting
his coming, and with their assistance his
beautiful and unconscious burden was
borne up to the room where she was to be
$2 The Abduction.
kept a prisoner at the Count's pleasure
until he would see fit to release her.
The following morning when Carmen-
cita slowly opened her eyes, after the
effects of the chloroform administered
passed away, and they took in the unfa-
miliar aspect of her surroundings, there
flashed into her remembrance what had
happened the previous night, how she
had been overpowered and rendered un-
conscious after entering her cab.
. " Dios mio" (my God ), she cried out,
"where am I ! '' and as she spoke, although
she felt so weak she could scarcely stand,
she leaped from her bed and looked
wildly about her.
The room that she found herself in
contained evidences of its former gran-
deur, for the tapestries that adorned the
walls, although moth-eaten and covered
with dust, were of the most beautiful
pattern, and the pictures had been exe-
The A bduct ion . 5 3
cuted by master hands, while over the
once highly polished floor was scattered
rugs softer and deeper than velvet ; the
furniture was most elaborately carved and
the toilet paraphernalia on the dressing-
table were of such a costly description
that a queen might have been pleased to
use them.
Carmencita at once flew to the door
and tried it, only to find her fears were
realized, for it was locked upon the outer
side, and it was framed of such stout wood
that no man's strength alone could have
beaten it down.
" I must escape,'' she murmured with
passionate vehemence, " surely there must
be some way out of this horrible prison."
She made her way to the windows
only to find, when she had drawn the
curtains aside, that they were barred with
great, heavy, iron bars, and as she com-
menced to shake them to see if any were
54 The Abduction.
loose, a blood-curdling sound arose be-
neath tJie window.
It was the baying of the bloodhound
which had been fastened there, and as Car-
mencita looked shudderingly down, she
beheld it gazing upon her with a fierce
glare in its eyes and its deep, red mouth
that disclosed its keen, white fangs, open-
ed to its fullest extent.
With her heart sinking like lead in her
bosom, with the feeling of utter despair
that swept over her, poor Carmencita
began to pace to and fro through the
room, wondering what awful fate was in
store for her.
The entrance of old Angela with the
tray containing her breakfast at last inter-
rupted her bitter and despairing reverie.
As Carmencita caught sight of the old
woman, whose repulsive and witch-like
appearance would have struck terror to
hearts more brave than hers, she sank
The Abduction. 55
moaning and half-fainting on her knees
and cried out piteously in Spanish:
"Oh, my good woman, tell me, I pray
you, where I am, and for what purpose I
' have been brought here ? ''
" You are in the old haunted chateau in
the midst of the woods, where you are
likely to remain until you have granted to
your wealthy and generous admirer, the
Count Marco Durazzi, the love that he has
so often begged you for," was old An-
gela's harsh reply, as she deposited the
breakfast tray upon the table.
As Carmencita listened to the old nag's
words that told' her she was a prisoner in
the haunted and much dreaded abode of
which she had often heard it said that
people were afraid to pass it even by day-
light, it was no marvel that a look of
agonizing terror swept over her fair,
sweet face, while with the most piteous
cries that ever came from human lips she
56 The Abduction.
seized old Angela's dress to detain her,
and begged her to release her.
"You are a woman like myself,' she
cried. " Surely you will have pity upon
me and save me. I will pay you well for
it, if you do."
But she might as well have appealed to
the blood-hound which was uttering the
most savage cries beneath the windows
ever since he had seen Carmencita's face
there.
"You are not able to pay as much as
Count Marco," replied the old hag with a
wicked leer, " so hold your tongue, girl,
and eat your breakfast and try to be in a
good humor when the good count will be
in soon to see you," and, as she concluded,
she roughly pushed the terrified Carmen-
cita from her and went quickly out, clos-
ing and locking the door after her.
As Carmencita found herself alone, with
her mind a prey to the most terrible of
The Abduction. 57
fears, she remained kneeling on the floor,
and with her little white hands clasped in
supplication, sent up the most pitiful and
earnest prayers to heaven for deliverance
from the terrible evil that beset her.
She arose from her knees at last feel-
ing stronger, and, leaving the breakfast
untasted, save for the cup of strong cof-
fee that she felt the need of as a stimulant,
began to pace through the room again,
while she devised means of escape and
hoped that heaven would hear her prayer
by providentially directing her friends
who would miss her and institute a search
for her, to trace her to the haunted
chateau.
While she was thus occupied she heard
the ponderous key turn in the lock, and
the next moment the door swung open
and Count Marco entered.
" Good morning, my fair Carmencita ; I
trust I find you comfortable," he said
5 8 The Abduction.
coolly, with the most courtly of bows and
sweetest of smiles.
Carmencita vouchsafed him no reply
save a look of withering scorn that flamed
like lightning from her glorious dark eyes,
and made him shrink for a moment before
its wrathful blaze.
Then recovering himself he continued:
" Come — come, my beautiful Carmen-
cita, have you no kind greeting for your
devoted admirer?"
" Leave the room, if you please, for I
have nothing to say to you, save that this
insult to me will be avenged,." she at last
found voice to utter, while an indignant
flush of crimson flamed into her cheeks
and the look of contempt deepened in her
eyes.
" Nothing to say to me,'' he returned
mocking, with an evil smile curving his lips
that glared like a line of fire beneath his
heavy black moustache. " Surely it were
The Abduction. 59
wiser my fair Carmencita to try and make
terms with me than to bandy angry words.
I love you and I want your love in return,
but beware my haughty beauty that you
change not that love into hate."
"Count Marco," she replied, "it is
cruel and unmanly for you to persecute a
defenceless girl and to try to force a love
from her that can never be yours, and the
vengeance of heaven will be upon you for
it. So release me, and I will forgive you
this outrage upon me in abducting and
keeping me a prisoner in this hateful
place. There are other women you will
find to love you, for you are handsome,
wealthy and generous, so why not bestow
your love upon them and find a happi-
ness that I can never give you."
" There is but one woman on earth to
me, Carmencita," he returned passion-
ately, " and that is yourself, and I have
sworn to make you my own by fair means
60 The Abduction.
or foul. You might as well try to stay
the waves of the sea or to topple a moun-
tain from its base as to move me from my
purpose. As for the vengeance of heaven,
I defy it. It is of no value to me beside
your love. With the poet I exclaim :
I'd barter the keys of heaven,
I'd trample them under feet
For the taste of thy wine-like kisses,
The throb of thy clasp, my sweet.'
" So better, far better for you, Carmen-
cita," he added, " to stop all resistance
and yield to my wishes by becoming mis-
tress of my heart and life than to make
me do that to win you, which I should be
sorry to do."
She could not misunderstand the in-
sulting meaning of his passionate speech,
or the burning, gloating look in his eyes
that were eagerly fastened upon her face.
The crimson flush faded from her face
leaving her as pale as death with bitter
The Abduction. 61
shame at his rudeness, while she buried
her face in her hands.
"You understand me," he said with a
malignant taunting laugh ; " so much the
better. Now listen to reason, Carmen-
cita, I love you and will do all in my
power to make you happy, but if you re-
fuse to do as I wish, I will — ah — well, you
know you are in my power.''
By the time he had ceased speaking all
the fierce spirit of her race within her had
asserted itself, and drawing herself up as
proudly as an outraged queen might have
done, she cried in a white heat of passion :
" You villain ! You cowardly dog, how
dare you threaten me thus ! Know that
I hate you, I defy you, I spurn you as the
dust beneath my feet, and would more
willingly deliver myself to the embrace of
yonder blood-hound than to yours, and
rather than accede to your wishes, I will
die by my own hand,"
62 The Abduction.
She was rarely, peerlessly beautiful
with that hot flush of anger burning in
her face, and its lightning-like flash
blazing in her dark eyes, and, as Count
Marco watched her, the passion that was
seething within him was wrought to a
maddening frenzy.
" Rave on, my beauty," he said admir-
ingly, " it makes me only the more de-
termined to win you and tame you into
subjection. By Jove ! I never saw you
looking more beautiful, more utterly fas-
cinating ; so come now, my lovely one,
and let us be friends, and seal our friend-
ship with a kiss."
" Mi chiquita" he added, while his
passion rose stronger and stronger within
him, and he advanced toward her to em-
brace her.
"Come share the happy transports of your love,
Come, come, my darling, to my longing arms,
And, lying on my throbbing heart discover
The wealth and beauty of your glowing charms."
CHAPTER VI.
FOILED.
He rrrght as well have sought to em-
brace an enraged serpent.
For, as he stretched out his hands to
clasp her, Cirmencita quickly drew
forth a small jewelled stiletto that was
concealed in her bosom, and which she
always considered it expedient to carry.
Raising its glittering blade aloft, she cried
out :
" Advance one step nearer, Count
Marco Durazzi, and you are a dead man,
for I truthfully warn you that I will
plunge this stiletto into your breast, and
64 Foiled.
failing in that, I swear by all I hold sacred
I will kill myself !"
There was a look on her face not to be
mistaken, and Count Marco was com-
pletely cured by it, for he had no inten-
tion of having blood shed to accomplish
his purpose, while her dauntless spirit
filled him with an admiration that was
stronger than his vile passion for her and
conquered it so much as to make him
answer :
" My brave Carmencita, you have van-
quished me and won the victory, and now
if you will swear to me that you will
reveal naught of your abduction or what
has occurred here to any living soul, I
will let you go home at once and no
further insult shall be offered you. The
people with whom you are living, if they
question you where you spent the night
away from them, you can tell that you
were invited after the theatre to a house to
Foiled. 65
dance for a private party, and as the hour
was very late when it ended, you were
pressed to remain until morning and
accepted the invitation. Will you swear
to do so, I ask you."
" I swear," answered Carmencita, anx-
ious to leave the dreaded chateau at any
price, save that of her honor.
A few hours later Carmencita found
herself safe in her own room at home, and
no one in Paris, save herself and Count
Marco, and the coachmen whom she
refused to allow to drive her again, was
aware how their beautiful favorite had
been forcibly abducted from their midst
for a fate worse than that of death.
CHAPTER VII.
THE DUEL.
It was about a week after his abduction
of Carmencita that Count Marco, in com-
pany with a party of friends, was seated
at one of the tables of a well-known wine
room in Paris.
All the Count's mad passion for Car-
mencita had increased with tenfold force,
and, as only a man can who has been disap-
pointed in similar cases, he cursed himself
again and again, that while he had her in
his power he had foolishly allowed himself
to release her.
He was fiercely jealous of all her other
admirers and hated them, but none so bit-
The Duel. 67
terly as he hated the Viscount Armand de
Sallauness, because Carmencita seemed to
smile more graciously upon him than all
the others, and he, the Count, had heard
•how Armand had declared that he loved
Carmencita so well that he was willing
to make her his Countess.
So a little later, when Armand, accom-
panied by the Marquis de Loubens, also
sauntered into the wine room, and was
within hearing distance, the Count, mad-
dened with rage and jealousy, skillfully
concealed with the sweetest of smiles,
purposely lifted to his lips, his wine glass
which had just been freshly filled, and
said :
" Here's to the most beautiful woman
in Paris, the charming dancer, Carmencita,
who is awfully fond of me, but distributes
her favors equally with — "
Before he could utter another word Ar-
mand, who had grown as pale as death,
68 The Duel.
tossed his freshly lighted cigar into a tray,
and striding up to the Count delivered a
stinging slap on his smiling face, the force
of which was so great it caused the wine
glass he held to fall from his hands and*
shiver into atoms upon the floor.
"Don't you dare to pollute that name
here,"Armand thundered, while the Count,
with all the wine flush faded out of his
face, sprang in a white heat of passion
upon him.
There would probably have been mur-
der done at that moment had the men
been left to themselves, but frightened
friends of both ran forward and separated
them.
Here's my card, sir," said the Count,
looking as if all the fires of hell had been
lit within him, and speaking in tones ex-
quisitely inviting, while he contemp-
tuously threw his card at Armand, " so let
us,'' he added, " see what we can do in the
The Dud. 69
morning about this little matter when we
have slept over it. It is your life or mine,
so see," this significantly and with the ut-
most sang froid, " that your pistols or any
weapons you choose are in readiness."
" Mon Dieu ! Armand," said the Mar-
quis, when he had succeeded in getting
the latter outside the wine room, " what
a foolhardy thing you have done, for
Count Marco is an excellent shot, and
your life, no doubt, will pay the forfeit."
" I don't care," passionately answered
Armand, " I would do the same thing any
number of times over and would cheerfully
yield up twenty lives if I had them, rather
than to allow that vile Italian wretch to
defame a name that is dearer than life to
me, and as pure as the driven snow.''
After a nearly sleepless night, Armand
rose at five o'clock the following morning
and looking out of the window saw that
jo The Duel.
a heavy fog hung like a thick curtain over
the earth.
He started out and soon reached the
home of the Marquis whom he found al-
ready up. His cab, with a case of
duelling pistols on the seat, stood at
the door waiting to convey himself and
Armand to the spot selected on the pre-
vious night for the duel.
They were on the ground by seven
o'clock, and the fog continued so dense as
to prevent their seeing each other distinct-
ly at a few yards' distance. This puzzled
the parties not a little, and threatened to
interfere with business.
" Everything by is against us to-
day," exclaimed the Marquis, while he-
placed the pistol under his arm and but-
toned his long coat up to the chin, "for
this fog will hinder you seeing one another
and this d- -d rain will soak through to
the priming. In fact, you must be put
The Duel. yi
up within eight or ten feet of each other."
" Settle all that as soon as you like,"
replied Armand, while he paced rapidly to
and fro.
" Haloo ! here ! here we are !" cried out
the Marquis a moment later, seeing
three shadowy figures within a few yards
searching about for them. The Count
had brought with him, beside the friend
who was to act as his second, a young
surgeon.
The fog thickened rapidly as soon as they
had come together, and Armand and Count
Marco took their stands a little distance
from their respective friends.
"Any chance of an apology?" whis-
pered the Count's second to the Marquis.
"Devil a bit,'' returned the Marquis,
and he added, "I am afraid it will be a
duel to the death of one or the other of
them."
" About how far had you better place
72 The Duet.
them in this cursed fog ?" asked the other,
when the Marquis had concluded.
" Oh, the usual distance. Step them
out the baker's dozen. Give them every
chance, for God favors them with this
fog."
" But they won't see one another any
more than the blind ! 'Tis a complete
farce, for how can they mark? — but they
are both in a savage mood and ready to
take any chances."
When the distance had been stepped
out and the duelists stationed in their
places, Armand could not even catch a
glimpse of the Count, to whom he was
equally invisible.
" Well," they both thought, "if we miss
we can fire again.''
In a few minutes the voice of the Mar-
quis called out loudly, but nervously,
"One! Two! Three!"
As the fatal " three " was called, both
The Duel. 73
pistol-fires flashed through the fog at
once, and the seconds rushed up to their
men.
" Armand, where are you ? '' called the
Marquis. " Count Marco, where are you ?"
asked his friend.
" Here ! " answered both Armand and
the Count, but the latter's voice betrayed
that he had been hurt.
Armand was unharmed, but the chance
shot from his pistol had struck the Count's
right arm, rendering it useless and in-
flicting a painful but not fatal wound,
which was soon attended to by the sur-
geon.
" I tell you what, Armand," said the
Marquis, while the two friends were on
their way home in the cab, " that fog was
a d — d lucky thing for you, for Count
Marco is a splendid shot, none better, and
if he could only have seen to mark you,
he would, no doubt, have aimed for your
-
74 The Duel.
heart, and you would this moment have
been a dead man instead of the very
much alive one that you are."
"Maybe I would have been a dead
man, and maybe not," returned Armand
with a grim smile, "but at all events,"
he added, " Count Marco has been taught
better than to bandy Carmencita's name
about in the drunken, ribald manner that
he did last night
CHAPTER VIII.
IN AMERICA.
Soon after Carmencita left Paris for
Spain again, and thither Armand, accom-
panied by the Marquis, followed her, as
did also Count Marco.
After fulfilling her engagements there
which were marked by a series of triumphs,
she returned to Paris to dance at the
the Nouveau Cirque, and at length was
induced by Kiralfy, who had been after
her for a long time, to come with him to
America and appear in "Antiope" at
Niblo's Garden.
Just before leaving she was rid forever
of her unwelcomed admirer, the Count
J 6 In Americd.
Marco Durazzi, for he was killed in a duel
with one of his companidns in a gambling
house, who had accused him of cheating at
cards.
But Armand accompanied her to Amer-
ica on the same vessel, much to the
amusement of the Marquis, who laugh-
ingly dubbed him " Carmencita's shadow."
The Marquis did not go with them, but
promised Armand to join him in New
York city as soon as he had transacted
some important business that needed his
attention.
The long voyage over gave Armand
many opportunities for the most delight-
ful tete-a-tetes with Carmencita. When
alone on the decks, they watched the ever
varying beauties of the unbroken views
of sea and sky.
He felt that this was a most favorable
opportunity for him to declare the mad
adoring love that filled his heart for her
/;/ America. "
and end the suspense that seemed con-
suming his life with its fever.
But, although his bravery was such that
if he was called on the battlefield, he
would have gone to the very front where
the fire was the thickest, he was a very
coward in the war of love, and he feared
to put to Carmencita the question that
his lips longed to ask her, if she could
ever return his love or become his wife.
He thought of every word she had ever
uttered to him and of every glance she
had bestowed upon him, but such
thoughts did not bring him much com-
fort, for his reason taught him that not
one word or glance of hers had been more
tender or loving than she would have be-
stowed on any friend.
He told himself that surely she must
read in his devotion to her and his every
look that was more expressive than words,
and in the verses of poetry he composed
78 In America.
about her or read to her, how great was
his love for her, but she never gave any
sign to hinvthat she did.
One night after they had been sitting
for some time together on the deck
silently watching the moon that was ris-
ing out of the misty bosom of the sea, he
felt that he could no longer endure his
suspense and must learn his fate from the
lips of this Spanish girl, beautiful as a
houri or an opium-eater's dream, who had
bewitched and forever enslaved him with
the spell of her wondrous beauty.
And after he had wrapped a thick
cloak about her to protect her from the
chilling sea breeze he bent over her with
a world of love looking out of his deep
blue gray eyes, and to prepare the way
for his declaration of love to her, ten-
derly and passionately quoted :
'You are a dream that lies upon me, making
My soul ache with its glory ; let me feast
Iii America. 79
In that soft splendor, radiant as the breaking
Of a new moon unfolding in the east,
Oh ! let me wear you as a mantle, decking
Its folds with unmatched spangles from your
heart,
As broad skies wear their stars, so grandly flecking
Their glowing depths with care in every part,
You are an echo from the world of stars ;
A Symphony — rare, rounded in love ;
A book of sweetest music without bars,
Breaking unchecked to hungering air above.
I measure out my passion in vain verse ;
It unwinds from my soul as from a reel ;
But ah ! how idly, for none may rehearse
The soul-born love which only I can feel.
Then the words began to tremble on
his lips that he had so long yearned to
utter and would have been spoken, but
just at that fateful moment a little party-
came from the saloon within and joined
them, and his opportunity was lost.
CHAPTER IX.
THE SUICIDE OF ARMAND.
" Carmencita is destined to become fa-
mous here in America as she did in Eu-
rope,'' said Armand the' day after the
Marquis had joined him in New York
while the two were enjoying a cigar to-
gether in Armand's richly-furnished apart-
ments in the hotel where he was stop-
ping.
"For,'' he continued, "the press are
already beginning to notice her and rave
about her, and that goes a great way to-
ward it. Just listen while I read you
how a talented and well-known writer en-
The Suicide of A r viand. 81
thuses over her in this copy of " Le Chat
Noir " of August 23d."
" Carmencita possesses the most de-
lightfully limber spine that I have seen
exercised. The bills call her the ' Mid-
night Passion Flower, the Pearl of Se-
ville.' It is a weak metaphor. She's a
veritable serpent of rampant coils, fluctu-
ant as smoke, elusive as mercury, beauti-
ful as a lonely star."
"The scintillant smiles of a Spanish
sky, the smooth dream of the mandolin,
the click-clack of castanets go rippling
through her fresh, young form. Limitless
bliss dilates in her deep eyes, her crim-
son mouth melts moistily with a gorgeous
smile, and she ends it all with a sublime
wriggle."
" Mercy on us ! what a wriggle this one is
of Carmencita's ! She only takes up three
minutes of ' Antiope ' at Niblo's, but that
three minutes is the whole evening — in
82 The Suicide of Arinand.
fact, it is the history of a life-time.
Poetry, plastic art and music are fused
into those wriggles. They begin at the
girdle and shiver upwards, vanishing at
the finger tips, and then winging invisibly
in the clouds, I presume. We have had
the idyl of the heel and toe to perfec-
tion hitherto, but it has required Carmen-
cita to supply the overwhelming torsal
writhe."
" She is a supreme beauty. The ro-
mances of Seville and Cadiz have never
breathed more divine visions than she
supplies, and the maddening mist of the
mantilla has never screened a fairer coun-
tenance. Pink as roses is her flesh, black
as the raven is her hair, and her eyes are
eclipsed suns — radiant as noonday and
the color of midnight."
"She dances principally with her arms,
shoulders and neck. She flings herself
backward from her waist like a rattler
The Suicide of Armand. 83
about to strike, hisses strangely, twists
latitudinally, spirates like a whiplash, and
reaches a spasmodic climax with her hands
on her undulating hips, her glorious head
laid back defiantly, and her bust jutting
bravely to the front."
" I don't see where the dudes are.
They went mad over Sylvia Gray, and
here is a woman by the side of whom
Sylvia is a poor, insignificant crab-apple.
She tosses the entire Casino over her
head. Russell is a feather bolster in
comparison ; Urquhart a doorstep. She
has one expression, a fainting of the eyes
and slow wreathing of the lips, that is
equal to the dawn of a new life. The
man who doesn't see Carmencita is a poor
wretch, and he'll end up his existence
with a gap in his heart big enough for
a horse and car to drive through."
''Our old friend, " Brudder Bolossy " I
*
believe it is, has been faithful in his pro-
■■
84 The Suicide of Armand.
duction of 'Antiope.' Besides Carmen-
cita he has flooded several hundred more
women in a truly startling ocean of
ballet, and waves of graceful limbs splash
and sparkle in the soft lights, and the
expanse of unobscured femaleness is posi-
tively vast. But after all, the languorous
swirl of Carmencita comprises the whole
glow and glamor of the night. She has
poetized, spiritualized, immortalized the
wriggle. You will not understand why I
lay so much stress on the. accomplishment
until she has made your own heart beat
with wonder.''
" How is that for a stunner of a de-
scription ? " said Armand, when he had
concluded reading, "and what can be
taken from it or or what added, to better
describe ' the beauties of her face ' and
' glories of her form ?
Then taking up another copy of the
same daily before the Marquis could
The Suicide of Arntand. 8$
answer, he added, "and just listen to
this."
" Carmencita ! Marvel of sinuous sweet-
ness ; a lithe, serpentine girl set to heav-
enly music. There are two minutes of
her every night at Niblo's. Those two
minutes are worth six weeks at Narraean-
sett Pier. Go to see her if you have to
pawn your jewelry to do so. It is impos-
sible to have missed her and lived."
" Very good,'' said the Marquis ; " with
such press notices as those and others I
have noticed, she will become the craze of
New York in time, if she has not al-
ready."
" But I say, Armand," he continued
banteringly, " how much longer are you
going to follow the divine Carmencita as
her very shadow, and where do you mean
it all to end? Have you proposed to her
yet and offered to make her your Count-
86 The Suicide of Armand.
ess, as you have so often said you would
do."
" No," replied Armand gloomily, " I
have not, and I am in the same fix describ-
ed by the poet who wrote:"
' The flower I have but to beck for,
Falls under my feet to die,
While the one I would risk my neck for
Grows up on the mountain high,'
" For," he continued, "although I have
conquered all other women before her
whom I set my heart on winning, I
cannot thus Carmencita, for she seems as
unapproachable to a heart's worship as
some beautiful glittering, far-off star that
one may look upon but never obtain. She is
so wrapped up in her art the she is imper-
vious to all else."
Soon after the Marquis took his depart-
ure and Armand went, as was his daily
custom, to call on Carmencita and try and
see her alone, if but a few moments, or,
The Suicide of Armand. 8/
failing in that, to linger near the kouse
where she lived, that he might at least
breathe the same air with her.
He still put off the fatal day that would
end his suspense, and when her engage-
ment at Niblo's was ended and she was
started on a tour through the States, he
followed after her wherever she went, cling-
ing to her presence as a drowning man to
a straw.
This tour ended, she came back to
New York under contract to dance at
Koster and Bial's well known and popular
concert hall in Twenty-third street, and
from the first moment that she appeared
upon its stage she began to ride on a wave
of popularity that soon had her poised on
its highest crest.
Even here, Armand followed her night
after night. He and his friend, the Marqutv,
could be seen sipping their favorite drinks
atone of the tables, or seated in one of
88 The Suicide of Arniand.
the private boxes near the stage, while
they watched and waited for the time
for Carmencita to appear, as so many
others were doing.
At last the day came when Armand felt
that he could no longer bear his suspense
and live, and with this feeling strong upon
him he went to Carmencita, and when he
found himself alone with her, he at once
poured into her ears the story he had for
so long a time longed yet dreaded to tell
of his mad, adoring l6ve for her, and
ended by asking her to become his wife.
Then, with a world of love and eager
hope on his handsome face, he awaited
her answer.
" I am sorry, my friend," she at last
gently said, "that it is impossible for me
to do as you ask me, for I do not and can-
not love you in the way you wish; my love
is all given to my art, and loving it as I
The. Suicide of Armand. 89
do I want to devote all my time to it, and
have no time for marriage."
All the look of hope had died out of his
face while she was speaking, and while a
look of unutterable despair swept over it
instead, he threw himself upon his knees
beside her when she had concluded, and
seizing her little white hands in his strong
ones, cried out brokenly :
" Oh, Carmencita, my beautiful love,
my life, I beg you, unsay those cruel words
you have just uttered, for I cannot bear
them and live. I must have your love, for
without it I shall die."
" You must not speak in that way," she
said softly, while she looked pityingly down
upon him, ''for you are young, and if you
will go away from me, you will learn to
forget me and to give your love to some
one more worthy to share your great
wealth."
90 The Suicide aj Armand.
" I can never forget you," he interrupted
passionately, and as for my wealth —
' What is the wealth of the Indies
Compared with the love of one ?
E'n heaven is a desert without it
Unblesssed with the light of a sun.' "
" So mi vida" (my life), he continued,
"have pity on me, for I can no longer
live without your love and even heaven
would be desolate to me if you did not
share it with me. So bid me hope that
you will reconsider your decision and bid
me live, for I will go from you to die if
you do not,"
" I cannot, my friend," she answered
sadly, but firmly, " for I would only be
deceiving you if I did. My mind is fully
made up not to marry, and I do not or
cannot give to any man the love you
ask for, but we may still be friends, may
we not, and forget that this scene between
us has ever occurred? "
The Suicide of Armand. 91
Seeing that his pleadings were useless,
with an agonizing feeling of pain and
desolation in his heart, that seemed each
moment as if it would kill him, and his
brain feeling as if it would burst, he cast
one last unutterable, despairing look on
Carmencita's beautiful face, such as Adam
might have cast at the Eden forever lost
to him, and simply saying, " adieu, my
life,'* passed out of her presence.
When at last he managed to reach his
own apartments, like one too dazed by a
heavy blow to offer any further resistance,
he uttered neither word, nor moan nor
prayer, but calmly seating himself before
his writing-desk, opened the diary that
contained the story of his love for Car-
mencita.
After reading it through to the last
chapter, beginning with the impassioned
lines of the French poet, Baudelaire,
92 The Suicide of Armand.
I adore thee, in my passion
Careless, thoughtless, girl of mine,
With the priest's wild, mad devotioTi,
For his altar and his shrine.
Underneath your satin slippers,
Have I thrown my love, my hate,
Have I flung my joy, my manhood,
Flung my genius and my fate,
he added the sad story of how after
declaring his love for Carmencita, he had
been refused by her, and as he loved her so,
could no longer bear to exist without her
preferring death to the misery of life, and
so intended dying by his own hand by
taking poison in his possession, both so
subtle and powerful in its working, that
it would kill instantly and yet leave no
trace of its presence, thus saving his
proud name from the shame of after con-
sequences— of the suicide's disgrace.
After penning as the final lines to this
confession,
Ye gods, she is so fair and sweet,
I've cast my life beneath her feet,
The Suicide of Armand. 93
he enclosed the diary in a large envelope,
which he sealed and directed to his friend,
the Marquis de Loubens.
This done, he opened a drawer in the
desk and took from it the poison he had
mentioned.
It was in the form of a powder and
shone in his hand like a crushed diamond,
and so small that the merest breath blow-
ing upon it could reduce it to nothingness,
and yet it possessed a power that larger
things might envy, for it held the key to
unlock the mysterious portals of the
unknown world beyond.
He walked steadily to the table that
contained some wine glasses, and, taking
one of them, calmly shifted the powder
into it. Then raising a caraffe filled with
water, with a steady hand he poured some
of it upon the tiny crystals in the glass.
A moment they bubbled, foamed upward,
and then died away. Armand, raising the
94 The Suicide of A r maud.
glass, drained it. A moment later, and
he too, like those bubbles — perisJied.
The following day when the door was
burst open by the servants, when he did
not make his appearance, he was found
resting in such a natural position with his
arms spread upon the table and his head
lying upon them, they thought at first he
was only in a deep sleep. Then the all
powerful silence of death filled them with
its awe, and convinced them that their
fears had not been groundless, and phy-
sicians were hastily summoned and the
Marquis de Loubens, Armand's most in-
timate friend.
The verdict returned by the learned
physicians as to the cause of death was
" heart failure," for the poison, as Ar-
mand had stated, left no trace of its
presence.
CHAPTER X.
carmencita's dream.
It was the morning after the suicide of
Armand, and as tragedy and comedy are
so often mingled on the boards of the
stage of life, Carmencita, all unknowing
of the death of him who had laid down
his young and vigorous life because of his
mad love for her, was eating a bunch of
the grapes that are her favorite fruit, and
gayly chatting with some of the Spanish
friends who had called in to see her as
was their usual custom.
" Oh, I must tell you, amiguitos miosp
(my friends), she exclaimed suddenly in
her pure liquid Spanish, " about the won-
derful dream that I had last night."
g6 Carmencita s Dream.
" It was about the benefit that MESSRS.
KOSTER AND BlAL have so kindly prom-
ised to give me," she continued, while all
eyes were fixed attentively upon her.
" It was wonderful ! wonderful ! wonder-
ful ! this dream of mine,'' she went on,
while she clasped her little white hands
expressively together, " and if it could
only be true, how truly happy I should
be!"
"But, ah, — no, it is impossible ! " she
said, as if speaking to herself, while she
gave a long, deep drawn sigh, and the
dazzling smile on her lips was succeeded
by an equally enchanting pout.
" But listen, and I will tell you," she
went on, while as quickly vanishing as an
April storm before the sunlight, the pout
was gone and a rare winning smile flit-
ted across her perfect red lips again at
the remembrance of her dream.
" I dreamed, as I have already told you,
Carmencita s Dream. 9/
that it was the night of my benefit ; and
now to go on with my story. When the
time came for me to go on the stage, I
found an audience awaiting. me that made
my brain reel and whirl with happiness
and made me dance as I have never danced
before when awake.''
She paused for a moment to give a sil-
very, rippling laugh that rang and echoed
through the room, and then continued :
" First of all I saw Queen Christina of
Spain, smiling upon me from one of the
private boxes, for it seemed she had come
all the way from Madrid expressly to at-
tend my benefit, and beside her was seated
el rcy chico, (the little king), who opened
his big eyes wider and loudly laughed and
clapped at me, just as he did when I was
fortunate enough to please him when I
danced before the royal party in the pa-
lace in my own country.''
" In the same box with the Queen and
9S Carmencitass DreaiH.
the little king was the Austrian Princess
(the Queen's friend), and Don Roderico,
de Manara, the majordomo of the royal
house-hold, to whom I presented the slip-
pers I wore when I danced at the pal-
ace, (and which he vowed, naughty man !
he would kiss every day,) and both of
these, the Princess and Don Roderico, also
kindly applauded me.''
" Then, as if to please me still more,"
she went on (after a brief pause to eat
some grapes), " it seemed that Messrs.
Koster & Bial had dismissed their usual
fine orchestra for the night, and that the
royal band, those splendid, black-whisker-
ed fellows from the gnardia reyal of Mad-
rid, played for me to dance instead, just
as they did when I was at the palace."
" In another of the boxes I beheld
another Queen with her son, the Prince,
beside her, who had his lorgnette con-
stantly levelled at me and was most critic-
Carme ncit as Dream. 09
ally examining me, and in the same box
with them was President and Mrs. Harri
gon, while in the other boxes near them
was Mr. James P. Maine and his wife,
together with some of the other members
of his family, also Mr. and Mrs. Clevleda,
also that American gentleman — what's his
name? — who has the eloquence of a Cicero,
and whom the newspapers call the golden
and silver-tongued orator? oh— ah ! I
mean Senor Chancelo Defruter."'
"There were lots of the distinguished
present," she added with another merry
laugh, " for I saw nearly all of the Four
Hundred."
" Then I saw all the noble and profes-
sional beauties who were pictured with
me in the Cosmopolitan Magazine of last
January, Mrs. Potter, Mrs. Langtry and
Mary Anderson, who was accompanied by
her handsome Spanish betrothed husband,
Sefior Jos£ de Navarro, and the other
ioo Carmencitas Dream.
famous beauties whose names are too
numerous for me to mention."
"And to add to all this distinguished
crowd," she went on, after another brief
pause to eat some more grapes and greet
another friend who had just called in to
see her, " there were artists, and sculptors,
and musicians, and well-known literary
people, besides many members of the
dramatic profession, including all of the
managers with whom I have ever con-
tracted to dance.''
"And then, how funny it was ! I recog-
nized the bandit chief of whom you have
often heard me tell how he captured me
once in Spain, smiling and nodding at me
from one of the boxes placed nearest the
stage, and seated beside him and chatting
with him as with an intimate friend was
Inspector Byrnes, New York's champion
thief-hunter and catcher."
" After the performance was ended
Carmencitd s Dream. 101
each and all of my audlenee crowded
around me to compliment me on my
dancing and offer their congratulations
for the great success of my benefit so that
I was nearly suffocated for want of air
and was compelled to beg for their mercy."
" I tell you I was nearly crazy with
joy and the excitement of it all ; for be-
sides tendering me their expressions of
admiration and congratulation, I was pre-
sented by them with a magnificent gold
medal, more beautiful than either of those
I received in Paris or Philadelphia, while
they showered upon me such costly floral
offerings as I have never before beheld,
for all through them, sparkling like count-
less dew drops were scattered diamond
rings, earrings, brooches, bracelets and
necklaces of such value that a queen
might well envy them."
" One of the European princes inter-
viewed me in the reception room, and
102 Carmencita s Dream.
when he saw me expressed his delight with
my dancing and with my beauty which
seemed to please him still more. He pre-
sented me with a superb necklace of per-
fectly matched pearls that were like
linked globes of snow bathed in moon-
light, and while doing so he whispered
to me that they would make a striking
contrast to the fiery glow of my dark
Spanish beauty, and made other flattering
and poetical speeches that I can't remem-
ber, and he also gave me with his mother's,
(the Queen,) com'pliments a rare India
shawl that he assured me was a mark of
favor she usually bestowed on those who
especially pleased her."
Carmencita paused to recover breath
while she opened with childish cries of
delight a package that had just arrived
for her that proved to be a costly fan of
vory and gold that had been sent her
Carmencitiis Dream. 103
by one of her numerous admirers, and
then went on after another merry laugh.
" But what seemed to amuse most of
all in my dream was when a gentleman
whom I had noticed, while I was dancing,
slyly peeping at me now and then from
the draperies of the box he was in, was
introduced to me after the performance
was over as that noted Brooklyn priest
or minister."
"For, after being introduced to me, he
bestowed on me a most lovely bouquet of
roses and then told me some bible story
about a king who had been so charmed
with the dancing of one of his dancing
girls that he promised to give her what-
ever she wished, even unto the half of
his kingdom, but the wicked, foolish girl
that she was only asked for the head
of St. John the Baptist, and got it too."
"The Rev. gentleman aftertelling me the
story, assured me that, although he con-
104 Carmcncita s Dream.
demned the king for giving her the saint's
head as a reward for her dancing, he did
not blame him for promising her the half
of his kingdom if her dancing was any-
thing near as charming as mine, and only
wondered that he had not offered her the
whole of it and himself to boot."
"Ah ! continued Carmencita, while an-
other deep drawn sigh burst from her
lips, "' how I wish it had been true, this
dream of mine, for although I was de-
lighted with my royal, distinguished and
cultured audience who had favored me
with their presence and smiles of approval
and who had presented me with such
a magnificent gold medal, and flowers and
jewels, and also with the music of the
royal band, the decorations of Spanish
and American flags, the sceneries that de-
picted places in my own native coun-
try, and the Bolero and bull fight that is
our national amusement, the beautiful
Carmencita s Dream. 105
picture of me painted by Sargent that was
exhibited at the front of the stage, all
of which Messrs. Koster & Bial had
brought to their concert hall especially
for my benefit ; I was more than delighted
for I was wild with joy when the many,
many dollars that had been received for
the performance, and that it took many
hours to count, were kindly and generously
tendered to me by my managers.''
She paused again, while she appeared
lost in deep thought, and then added:
" Oh, I knew there was something I had
not told you yet, for I forgot to tell how,
in my dream, all the ladies and gentlemen
present, after complimenting me about my
dancing, all began to clamor to have their
fortunes told, as I had done in imitation of
the gypsies in Spain for the Professor, an
account of which you have no doubt read
in the Sunday Herald of April 20th."
" The clamor was so great that I was in
io6 Carmencitas Dream.
a dilemma whom to oblige first, when one
of the gentlemen present kindly helped me
out of my difficulty by standing upon' a
table and turning himself into a sort of
auctioneer for me."
"Come, now, ladies and gentlemen,"
he said, " do be reasonable, for much as
she may wish to do so, the charming Cai-
mencita cannot oblige you all at the same
time, so I propose to you that she tells
first to the highest bidder."
Again Carmencita paused, while peal
after peal of laughter rang out from her
red lips, and then went on :
" What am I offered?" he then began to
shout, and almost before the words were
out of his mouth, they all began to shout
out at once, so that it was impossible
to tell for a moment who was the highest
bidder, for all of them offered such muni-
ficent sums that it took my breath away
with astonishment,"
Carmencita $ Dream. 107
"It will not be fair for me to mention
the name of the one who proved to be the
highest bidder, as I number so many
among my sincere admirers, but suffice it
to say that the sum that crossed my palm
for the first fortune I had to tell was
$500."
" And so on, down to sums of not much
less value, I went on telling fortunes in
my dream, until I became so rich I began
to think it would take an extra cab beside
the two that would already have to con-
vey myself and my floral offerings to my
home, to take my fast accumulating wealth
there."
" And when at last it was all packed
into a large satchel together with the
many costly jewels I had received, and
I had reached home, and alone in my
own room had counted over the money
which came to $10,000, judge of my bitter
disappointment when the loud barking of
108 Carmcncitas Dream.
a dog aroused me and I awoke and found
it had all been a dream."
'But, although I was disappointed,"
she added in conclusion, " I could not
helP being amused, that I had dreamed
my benefit had taken place, when it will
not be until the 21st of May."
Just as she concluded the servant en-
tered and announced the Marquis de
Loubens, and after Carmencita had mu-
sically murmured to him, sirvase Vd. sen-
tarse, caballcro (will you please be seated,
sir), as she noticed the pallor and troubled
expression on his face, she abruptly res-
trained the gay sally that she was about
to indulge in after her greeting of him,
and for a moment utter silence reigned
throughout the room.
It was at length broken by the Mar-
quis, who announced in a low, sad voice
how his friend, the Vicount Armand de
Carmencita s Dream. icq
Sallauness had been found dead in his
room that morning.
'■ PcoYfellow ! what a pity that he should
die so young, and I liked him so much!''
said Carmencita, after the first shock the
news had given her had passed away, and
as she spoke, the saddest of looks swept
over her beautiful face.
" What was the cause of his death, do
you know ? '' asked one of the gentlemen
present.
"The doctors say it was heart failure,"
briefly answered the Marquis.
He did not wish to pain the beautiful
Carmencita who had been the innocent
cause of Armand's death by reason of her
alluring beauty that had made him mad
with love for her, by telling her and the
little group assembled there that the doc-
tor's verdict was all a mistake, and that he,
the Marquis, had in his possession at that
very moment the diary left by Armand in
HO Car mencit a^s Dream.
which was penned his dying confession
that he was about to die by his own hand
, because he had been refused by Carmen-
cita, and loving her so well could not bear
to exist without her.
And as the Marquis sadly continued to
watch Carmencita's beautiful face and sta-
tuesque form, from which grace radiated
at her every movement, he wondered how
many men, like Armand, had been or
would be made mad with love for her,
while he mentally decided it would be no
marvel if they were so.
|v£<S*v\
LIFE OF CARMENCITA,
And her hair is black as night,
And her eyes are starry bright ;
Olives on her brow are blooming,
Roses red her lips perfuming ;
And her step is light and airy
As the tripping of a fairy.
Carmencita, or Carmen Dauset, for that
is her whole name and Carmencita is only
her title upon the stage, was born in
Almeria near the beautiful and quaint old
city of Seville in the year 1868.
She astonished her people by commen-
cing to walk at a very early age, not
awkwardly or totteringly like most babies
but with a grace and assurance born of
1 1 2 Life of Carmcncita.
experience, as if she had been walking for
years.
Indeed, her walking was really dancing
and to quote the ' Cosmopolitan Maga-
azine,' ' it was not the tiptoe pirouette of
the Italian or French baby, who is artistic
and artificial by hereditary instinct, but
' like the wave of the sea,' like the tossing
of fuchsia bells in the wind, like a wind-
blown flame, a flashing, vivid bit of Span-
ish life, deep colored as pomegranate
flowers, full of the untamed, animal grace
of a people who have touches of the wild,
desert blood in them, and, perchance
somewhere, far away, a strain of the Zin-
gari.'
And to-day the older people of her
birthplace love to tell how, when she was
but a little child among them, Carmen
Dauset gave promise of the future great-
ness for which she was destined.
When she was seven years old she was
Life of Car an licit a. 113
sent to school at Malaga, and for five
years that was her home.
During that time she studied dancing
as an art by taking lessons in the regular
dancing school there, the cost of which
was $40 a month.
This monthly sum was quite a drain on
her father's not too well filled purse, but
kind and generous friends who admired
and appreciated the lovely little Spanish
girl's wondrous grace and talent helped
him, and the progression of the child
genius was so rapid that she amazed
teachers, parents and friends and all who
beheld her dance.
And when she was but twelve years of
age she was considered an excellent dan-
seuse, even among those girls whose
untamed Southern ancestry, with all its
wild animal grace, makes them dancers by
birth.
Although Carmencita knew then that
1 14 Life of Carmencita.
she was more than merely successful as so
many are, she did not dream that she
would become famous in other cities of
Europe and in America.
Brought up on grapes as she was, the
warmth and bloom of them got into her
blood and filled her with their fiery pas-
sion and intoxicating loveliness. Like
them she ripened rapidly under the burn-
ing splendor of sunny, Spanish skies, for
the bud of girlhood in which so many
beautiful embryo leaves lay folded, had
blossomed when she was but sixteen into
the fulness of glowing, panting and luxu-
riant womanhood, and made her the most
exquisite type of Andalusian beauty.
The first stage upon which she ever
appeared was that of the Cervantes The-
atre in the year 1880. Here she became
an instant triumph, and gained more than
ordinary distinction by giving two beau-
tiful dances that were wholly her own in-
Life of Carmencita. 1 1 5
vention. One of them she called the
Petenera, and some of its graceful move-
ments she presents to her audience some
nights at Koster & Bial's, where she is
now engaged, while to the other she gave
the name of the Vito (hat dance), and this
she frequently gives in its entirety, and it
is well worth a visit to the popular con-
cert hall to see it alone.
For four months she flitted before the
delighted audience that nightly crowded
the Cervantes to see her, and then she
traveled all through Spain, winning higher
praises than were ever given to any other
danseuse. Efforts were made to get her
to Paris, but the enthusiastic Spaniards
insisted upon two years more, and she
made another contract and danced all over
her own country until 1884.
Then she went to Paris, and in a short
time was the craze of the Boulevards. In
this home of art, nature and genius were
Ii6 Life of Carmencita.
triumphant, for even the blase Frenchman
went in raptures over her and called her
" La Perle de Seville," and presented her
with a magnificent gold medal.
Then she was visited by Don Roderico
de Manara, one of the royal household,
and was induced by him to return again
to Spain. There she danced at Madrid
in the palace before the royal family, and
so delighted the Baby King that he
watched her with his round eyes opened
to their widest extent, and clapped his
hands when she was done — the most spon-
taneous and agreeable applause she had
ever had.
From Madrid she went to Lisbon and
to Valladolid, and then again to Paris to the
Nouveau Cirque. P'or a long time while
she remained in Paris Kiralfy was after
her with inducements to go to America,
but her success seemed likely to be per-
manent in Lurope and she hesitated, and
Life of Carmcncita. 117
did not at all fancy the idea of a sea voyage
and the cold of the United States. But
finally Kiralfy's inducements prevailed,
and he made a contract with her, and
she came to America and appeared first
in Antiope at Niblo's Garden.
It was not a favorable season for
her advent, for that part of New York
which is artistic and fashionable was out
of town, but she was most warmly praised
and enthused over by members of the
pi ess who saw her dance.
When the sculptors and artists and so-
ciety people came back to the city Car-
mencita had been started on a tour
through the States. Here she did not
win the fame that she had won in other
cities, for the Westerners failed to note the
wonderful charms in'her which the higher
talent and keener vision of the metropolis
have since discovered. But the Western
press did not wholly fail to appreciate
i 1 8 Life of Carmencita.
her as can be seen from the following ex-
tracts copied from the San Francisco
Daily Report and Chronicle, the Daven-
port Democratic Gazette and Tribune,
and also one of the papers of Sacramento :
" Carmencita, the wonderful Spanish dan-
cer, was greeted with rounds of applause
and well did she deserve it. She danced
in long skirts, and her dancing is of the
genuine Spanish type as unlike the ordi-
nary stage dancing as can well be imag-
ined. Her performance is something that
can't be described.''
" The Sevillian dancer is a marvel of
grace and brilliancy in her dances, which
are full of the passionate and romantic
abandon ascribed to her race. No Span-
ish dancer at all approaching her in
rapidity, brilliancy, or gracefulness of
pose has ever appeared here.''
It was not until Carmencita stepped
upon the boards in February last at
Life of Carmencita. iig
Kbster & Bial'.s that she really made her
American debut.
Since that hour the pleasant sea of
success has rolled her upon its topmost
waves, and she has become the craze of
the hour among artists, society people,
and the multitude of ordinary lovers of
amusement.
People drop into Koster & Bial's just to
see her whirl, while it has become the
" fad" among the fashionable set to
make up a party and view her dancing
from the private boxes.
A writer in Kate Field's Washington
of April 30th, thus describes how it has
become the "fad'' to see Carmencita:
" Nothing but sheep ! I refer to people.
What do you suppose New Yorkers have
been flocking after for the last six weeks
or more ? Carmencita ! What's that ? A
woman. What sort of a woman ? Span-
ish, born near Seville, What does she
120 Life of Carmcncita.
do ? Dance. Where? At Koster & Dial's
in Twenty-third street, nearS \th avenue.
When she first appeared in New York
with Kiralfy last summer, this unique
Andalusian was not appreciated. Artists
and connoisseurs were out of town, and
the great public did not know enough to
discover her for themselves. Then Car-
mencita danced her way through the
West, again without recognition. How-
ever, it's a long lane that has nu turning,
and now the Spanish dance is turning
people's heads. It's Mrs. Langtry's case
over again. When Mrs. Langtry first
visited London, nobody looked at her.
She was no prettier than anybody else.
Later, she went up to town and met
Frank Miles, the artist. He is the author
of her being as a professional beauty.
He invited people to meet her at his
studio. Oscar Wilde went into heroics
over her fine points ; the Prince of Wales,
Life of Carmencita. 12 1
hearing all this fuss, asked for an intro-
duction, and the lady's fortune was made.
That's the way Carmencita has gained
her clientele here. Artists discovered
her, John Sargent extolled her grace,
Carroll Beckwith invited a number of
friends to his studio to see her dance at
the Sherwood, and the ball began to roll.
Everybody at Heckwith's studio was so de-
lighted— women no less than men— that
Carmencita danced, and danced, and
danced, and nobody went home until
morning. " If she can dance at Beck-
with's studio, why not in my drawing-
room ? " queried one fine lady, and lo !
the sound of Carmencita's castinets was
heard in swell houses. But everybody
can't afford to pay for so much luxury,
and society whispered, " Why not go to
Koster & Bial's? There are rows of pri-
vate boxes in the gallery. Let's make up
parties and go.'' Thus the " fad " started,
and now it's the thing to admit that
122 Life of Carmencita.
you've seen Carmencita, and you think
she's " the most fascinating creature you
ever laid your eyes upon.''
Continuing, the same writer says:
" My introduction to Carmencita took
place in Chase's studio, 57 West Tenth
street, where a party of ladies and gentle-
men were invited to meet Carmencita,
who arrived at 1 1 P. M., after her appear-
ance at Koster and Bial's. Mr. Chase's
studio is delightful in every respect, its
size being just right for the occasion.
Such curios, such everything, as he has !
Hut I must stick to Carmencita. An al-
most square rough cloth, large enough for
a pas sent, was laid on the floor in front of
a white canvass frame which served as a
background. Four mandolin and guitar
players, Spaniards, seated themselves on
a sofa at the left of the frame, and then
Carmencita entered, in a Spanish costume
that descended to the ankle.
Carmencita's smile and teeth won friends
Life of CarmcHciia. 123
at once. Then there's a vim and an in-
describable swagger— yes, that's the word
— to her tread, that surprise and interest.
Finally, when inspired by the music, which
begins as she enters, she undulates, and
twists and turns, and rises and falls, and
stands in every possible position except
on her head, and does steps not laid down
by ballet masters, and altogether sets
ordinary art at defiance. You understand
why artists clap their hands and cry
' Brava ! Bravisima?' and why John Sar-
gent is painting her portrait. She's just
the subject for his free and original brush
and ought to inspire the best that is in
inn.
Carmencita undoubtedly has as many
bones in her body as the rest of us; but so
supple is she that she could give lessons
to a kitten. Indeed, she's a sort of human
kitten. She dances because nature made
her to dance, She'd invent steps and
movements, if she had nobody for
124 Life of Carmencita.
audience ; she plays with poses as a kitten
plays with a string. She is the embodi-
ment, the passion, and occasionally the
poetry of motion.
The leading daily newspapers have also
devoted much space to describing her ap-
pearance, her life and her dancing, and
even the magazines have most flatteringly
noticed her, for the "Cosmopolitan Maga.
zine " of January last, in an article
entitled " Famous Beauties of America,"
gave a most charming picture of her as
she is seen in the dance, and after extolling
the beauty of her face and form, thus en-
thuses over her dance :
"And she danced. No steps that mas-
ters could teach her. No wiggling on
iron toes down the length of the stage
with coarse exposures. She wore modest
skirts to her ankles ; she was slender as a
reed, and her slim feet, under whose in-
steps water would flow, were cased in satin
slippers, whose high heels clicked with her
Life of Carmencita. 125
castanets. When the heart runs over with
the first joy of love, soul and body yearn
for wild motion, to spread wings for the
stars, to cry, to leap, to run ; and it was
the ecstasy of life and movement that
Carmencita danced.
In an interesting interview with her, in-
terpreted by the author, for the " New
York Herald," printed in the Sunday
edition of April 20th, the following ex-
tract thus describes her character, appear-
ance, and the revelations of her dance :
" In her drawing room she seems but a
child, a plain, simple girl, with direct and
unaffected ways — a sort of Spanish Yan-
kee. There is no nonsense about her.
Many shop girls in New York would
attract as much attention in the drawing
room or in a public conveyance. But
when she begins to sing, or dance, or take
part in a pantomime, either in a drawing
room or on the stage, she is a revelation
— a creature of passion and fire — a tor-
126
Life of Carmencita.
nado of wild, devastating poetry that
carries everything before it. The remark-
able feature of this psychological phe-
nomenon is the secret power, ' magnetism,
electricity, genius,' or whatever it may be
called, that enables her to transform her-
self from a pretty little maiden into a tall,
graceful woman — an undulating paragon
of splendid beauty. She takes possession
of managers, actors, auditors, doorkeepers,
box office, and reigns a queen for the
time being. Her entire performance, in-
cluding an encore or two, does not exceed
five or ten minutes. But her Spanish
genius gets in its fine work during those
minutes, and the vision she leaves con-
tinues to get mixed up with the brains,
business and duty of a man for the next
two weeks. How she does it no one
knows. Hers is a gift of nature. It
enables her to become the wonderful be-
ing that dances the wild, gypsy measures
Life of Carmcncita. \2J
seldom seen outside the mountains of
Andalusia."
In the "Sunday World'' of the same
date Nell Nelson writes of her;
" In her quick, graceful and sinuous
movements and ever-changing attitudes
one loses sight of the technique of art and
beholds a flexibility of body, an abandon
of the physical that is perfectly astonish-
ing. In the winding, quivering, snake-
like motions when her lithe, little body
bends, waves a"d furls one marvels at her
endurance as well as grace."
An exceedingly well-written article in
the " Sun " of Sunday, April 13th, raves
of her in the following highly flattering
manner:
" Her performance is made up of every
quality the human body is capable of
expressing: gracefulness, suppleness,
strength, passion are all inbred in it with
their fullest force, but all controlled by an
individuality sufficiently striking to make
128
Life of Carmencita.
the spectator wonder occasionally whether
he is fascinated with the dancer or the
woman. She steps, or sways, or turns al-
ways with infinite charm, and the animat-
ing spirit is never lost to sight. The fires
beneath show through every undulation of
her body as clearly as in her blazing eyes.
She is not hampered by the severe tra-
ditions of the old queens of the ballet
whom our grandfathers worshipped. She
permits herself to reach such a fervor and
rapidity of style that would doubtless
have made Taglioni wave her hand in
rejection, yet grace never fails her. But
in her most impassioned moments it is a
certain dash and splendor of movement
and the fire of an extraordinary personal-
ity that seizes upon the beholder's mind
and leaves him thrilled, shaken and mys-
tified with the power of their effect. "
" She is the incarnate harmony of form
and motion. She is art personified, not
the art of the teacher of *the ballet, but
Life of Carmcncita. I2g
the art of nature. Sculptors and painters
gather around the tables of the concert
hall to study the attitudes and movements
of this marvelous maiden of Almeria as
they would sit in their studios to note the
beautiful points of a splendid model. As
for the 400,000, the great mass of seekers
after light amusement, they go without
thought of high art, or anything except
that Carmencita pleases them with some-
thing vivacious, unique and startling in its
effect. Tiiey know they like her, even
though they cannot explain their admira-
tion according to the canons of artistic
criticism."
" It is usually a few minutes before ten
o'clock when Carmencita comes out each
night on Koster & Bial's stage. Her act oc-
curs in the middle of a burlesque play, and
and the score of girls appearing in its roles
stand on each side of the platform. They
are clad in tights and flaming draperies of
Athenian pattern and their presence is a
130 Life of Carmcncita.
fair back-ground for the lively young
Spaniard, who suddenly fixes your whole
attention by the entrancing salute that
she always makes at her first flitting upon
the stage. It is a flash from beaming eye,
a smile woven upon delicately curved lips,
a swan-like bending of the neck, a turn of
the body, a poise superb with the grace
of royalty. If the art of physical motion
reaches any higher perfection than in her
quiet and simple entrance, it has never
been revealed in our eyes or perception.
She descends the few steps at the back-
ground and advances to the footlights
with that superb pose, if we may call it
so, and grace of movement that we can
only attribute to some great master-piece
of Phidias into whom there had been
breathed the breath of life. She is dressed
in a long and spangled gown covering a
profusion of white petticoats. Her skirts
reach almost to her ankles and you see
only a bit of her stockings. Her shoes are
Life of Cartnencita. 131
low, but their heels are like stilts. If you
are seated a correct distance from the
footlights the dancer seems like a brilliant,
scintillating, elusive bird, fluttering with
lightsome ease upon the stage. You see
her wealth of jet black hair, her glorious
eyes, whose dark depths well with liquid
fire; you see the undulations of her figure,
the gay colors of her dress and its decora-
tions as she poses there, a brilliant type
of Spanish womanhood. But this is only
for a moment ; she lingers as an orchid
before it sways on the breeze, and then as
the orchestra strikes into a slow, soft
Spanish movement, she begins her dance.
The verve, fire, rapture of her action are
untranslatable ; they cannot be painted
with brush, nor told with pen. They
thrill the artistic temperament, they sat-
isfy the biases who long for something
new, they bewilder those to whom only
the ordinary ballet may be understood.
The extraordinary flexibility of this beau-
132 Ufc of Carmencita.
tiful creature's body, which writhes and
twists, furls and floats, like a silken scarf
guided, shaken, and flung by a spirit full
of joyous abandon, quickens the athlete
with a feeling akin to triumph — here he
beholds a control of the physical with a
grace that astonishes."
" They call her a dancer, but she is more
than that. She is a splendidly formed,
supple-jointed child of nature, whose
every position, every motion, is the grace
of freedom, a girl to whose blood the
grapes of her own Spain have given the
passion of wine, a girl to whom action is
delight. At the theatre where she now
appears, she is before the footlights for
five minutes, but if she had her own way
she would dance before an appreciative
house for half an hour. Some nights she
is in a gloriously exalted mood, and then
she insists upon ten minutes. She says it
js for herself as well as her spectators."
"When she begins one of her dances, she
Life of Carmencita. 133
rises upon her legs and lifts one foot. But
soon every part of her body is in motion,
and you seem more captivated by the
swaying of her torso and head than the
motions of her legs. She writhes and
wriggles from toe-tips to the top of her
black hair. She bends over until her hair
almost touches her back ;* she crouches,
she springs ; she shakes off the whim of
this set of movements and begins another,
grasping the edges of her skirt and step-
ping proudly this way and that, until with
a quick dash she is off in a bewildering
whirl, in which you catch only a glimpse
of just a little more pink stocking, and
just a little more white petticoat, and
then, while you wonder what eccentric
phase she will show next, the music stops
and she bows and disappears."
The "Johnnies'' and the "chappies''
have not caught on with Carmencita, per-
haps because she does not want them, per-
haps because she does not talk English, but
134 Life of Carmcncita.
some of them are beginning to earnestly
turn their attention to learning Span-
ish from a teacher, or purchasing a ' Span-
ish Made Easy.'
But she has many gentlemen callers
who are not made up of the sort who
usually tag after the goddesses of the
ballet. They are men who would not
give a fig for an ordinary dancer, but do
want to talk with this extraordinary
Spanish maiden and are willing to pay
for the favor. Some of them .are artists'
friends with artistic longings. Often, too,
there are rich fellows who have heard of
the Carmencita craze, and are not satis-
fied with the glimpses they obtain of her
through their opera glasses from the
boxes, but want to study her closer be-
hind the scenes, and converse with her
through an interpreter if they do not un-
derstand Spanish, so as to know better ex-
actly what kind of a girl she is of whom
such extravagances have been uttered in
Life of Carmaicita. 135
club and cafe, and wherever men meet to
talk.
Nearly every moment of her time is oc-
cupied, for after the evening performance
at the theatre is over, she attends mid-
night soirees and receptions at the studios
of well known artists whose guests, be
fore whom she is invited to dance, are
made up from the crane de la crime of
society.
It is usually one o'clock in the morning
when Carmencita, with some of her Span-
ish friends as escorts, reaches her lodg-
ings. She is up by ten o'clock, and at
noon is at the studio of Sargent who is
painting another picture of her.
He has already finished one that is on
exhibition at the Academy and occupies
the place of honor there.
One of the first pictures that came
from the master hand of this famous ar-
tist and won for him the sincere and lav-
ish praises of the critics, was that of a
136 Life of Carmencita.
Spanish maiden, and in painting the por-
trait of Carmencita, he feels as if his first
love had come back to him.
After spending a few hours in Sargent's
studio, Carmencita is on her way to dance
at the house of some society leader, and
from there goes to the home of some of
her private pupils among the fashionable
set, who pay exorbitant prices for lessons
to learn to imitate the graceful steps of
the beautiful danseuse.
All prudish barriers are swept aside
during these lessons, and the stately
apartments ring with merry peals of
laughter at their feeble and awkward
efforts to do as Carmencita does ; for al-
though the well-known movements, such
as the waltz and quadrille, are executed
by them with some pretense to grace,
their best attempts to dance the unique
steps and throw their bodies into the start-
ling but beautiful poses shown by their
Life of Carmencita. 137
teacher, are so clumsy as to provoke the
greatest merriment.
And when at last Carmencita leaves
them, while they are wearied with their
labored exertions, she is still as fresh
and lively as if she Had not danced at all.
For it is as natural for her to dance as
for a fish to swim, and she declares that
she " never tires of it," and it affords her
a relaxation that nothing else does, and
when she is not otherwise engaged, she is
constantly inventing new steps or atti-
tudes and sets of movements for her own
amusement, as well as for that of her audi-
ence.
To show what a furore Carmencita has
created among society women, and how
she has become the most fashionable dissi-
pation of the fashionable world with her
dancing at receptions, in studios and her
private lessons in this art, and with what
a strong hold these terpsichorean achieve-
ments of hers have taken the fancy of the
138 Life of Carmencita.
younger and more Bohemian elements of
the beau monde to get away from the hum-
drum monotony of ordinary amusements,
we quote the following from the New
York " Truth " of March 26th :
" A youthful matron is said to have
boasted the other day that no chandelier
was safe in a room where she went through
her daily exercise, and it is a well-known
fact that during that weary half hour after
dinner, when ladies are left to their own
devices, matches have been made in high-
jumping and extraordinary exhibitions of
skill and ability displayed. Upon the en-
trance of the men the contests cease — at
least so the fair athletes say."
" Skirt dancing seems to be as enjoy-
able to the performer," states the same
paper, "as it is fascinating to the spectator,
and it is probable enough that at the
Patriarchs and assemblies next winter,
certain fair and accomplished members of
the fashionable world may yield involun-
Life of Carmencita. 139
tarily to the temptations of a heavy kick,
a Lind swivel, or a Carmencita can-can,
before the amazed eyes of the McAllister
himself."
" But," says the " Sun," of Carmencita,
" whatever else may shock, Carmencita
herself will not offend. She always wears
long skirts, she is not a kicker, and in her
dancing there is nothing of that coarse
display to be seen in the ballet ; nothing
of that vulgarity manifested by some skirt
dancers, nothing of the cheap, flashy, inar-
tistic action of the usual concert hall figur-
ante."
"She is just such a danseuse as Delsarte,
the apostle of physical culture, would have
made. She is not yet twenty-two years
old, and Spain's hot blood coursing
through her sculptured form has given her
an individuality of honest artistic merit,
which makes it unnecessary for her to
stoop to the sensual in order to gain ap-
plause. She is not a dancer who wears
140 Life of Carmcucud.
the forced smile and assumes the studied
grace of the commonplace premiere since
Elssler and Tagliorti said farewell, but
smile or no smile, the Spanish girl's face
is a picture to look at long, and her very
walk is a splendid phase of pure motion.
If Carmencita were to fall down stairs, she
would tumble with charming grace, and
no two tumbles would be alike.''
And so everywhere the beautiful Car-
mencita is winning golden opinions from
the press, from her own profession, and
from countless scores of admirers, and is
dancing her way into all hearts, and will
continue to do so as long as strength is
given her to flit before an audience, while
the remembrance of her wondrous art
will linger in the memory as does the
sweet perfume of roses even when they
bloom no more, and will never be erased
from its* tablets, if one is to judge from
the following extracts also generously laid
Life of Carmencita. 141
at her shrine as offerings of commenda-
tion by the press:
" Every movement displays the ardent
passion of the srfnny atmosphere of her
native Spain, and she has become the
greatest sensation of modern ballet."
" One hand at her wrist and the other
daintily holding her long skirt, she is a
picture of sensuous beauty, the like of
which has rarely, if ever, been seen on any
staee, and one never to be erased from the
tablets of memory."
" It were worse than treason to imagine
that these sinuous movements, so replete
with a most wondrous grace, and made up
from the Bolero dances of Spain, and the
passion poses of Persia, together with the
beautiful, unique, and startling steps in-
vented by the divine danseuse herself,
can ever fade from the popularity they
are now enjoying."
An 1 art contributed its voluntary offer-
ing to her genius in the words of a well-
I42 Life of Carmencita.
known sculptor who said to her, "Among
other dancers now, you are like a pearl
amid sand."
But this child-woman phenomenon, who
had power to thrill the heart of even the
pleasure satiated Parisian, and awaken
the most d/as/ man of the world from the
feeling of ennui that has overtaken him,
and would make even old King Solomon
himself, we trow, if he was living now,
revoke his declaration " that all was van-
ity, and there was nothing new under the
sun,'' remains as simple in her tastes and
longings amid all this flattery she receives,
that is enough to turn even older and
wiser heads than hers, as a little child.
Her one greatest desire is to earn
money, that she may send it home to her
people in Spain, and when her task is
done of winning new triumphs and fresh
laurels, to return to the warm, sunny land
where she was born,
The land of sunshine and of love,
The land of music and of dreams,
Life of Cafmencita. 143
and under the burning splendor of its
skies, accompanied by the musical play-
ing of its fountains, the soft twangings of
guitars and mandolins, and the click-clack
rattling of castanets, dance solely for her
own amusement and that of her own
family, or perchance, for some stately
dark-eyed caballero, who will devour her
with his gaze from beneath his slouched
sombrero, and thrill her heart as it has
never been thrilled by the handsome, but
calm, cold men of other countries, and
win her promise to become his bride.
Dancing is a favorite amusement with
the whole Spanish nation ; young and old
equally engage in it with enthusiasm.
Besides the dances belonging to other
countries, the Spaniards have three that
are purely national, namely, the fandango,
the bolero, and the seguidilla, and to give
an idea of their passion for these dances
in some parts of the country, if a person
were to come suddenly into a church, or
144 Life of Cartnencita.
a court of justice, playing the fandango
or the bolero, priests, judges, lawyers,
criminals, audience, one and all, grave and
gay, young and old, would quit their
functions, and commence dancing.
And it is from this passionate danc-
ing, loving race that Carmencita, the
beautiful Spanish star, has risen on the
terpsichorean horizon and reached its ze-
nith, and as some glorious planet that
Trails its burning splendor 'thwart the darkness of
the sky,
and dazzles the beholder, and causes les-
ser stars to fade into insignificance be-
side it, so she among all other dancers
shines preeminent.
And in closing this brief biography of
her we can express no better wish for her
than that she will continue to shine for
many future years to come, and that the
American stage will long and often be
brightened by her glorious presence so
full of magnetism, grace and beauty.
UAKaL&jNUiiA ai the BOST(_)>T ;
I Carmencita, the famous Spanish dane The Spanish dancer is so interesting
jgan her first engagement in this city just now to every one, especially in so-
'Boston Theatre, last evening, as the ciety, that it may be interesting to know
.particular star of Koster & Biafs Vau< thal Carmencita, in her dancing togs, is
Company. The house was filled to the not like an ordinary ballet girl. Her skirts
(the patrons being chiefly of the slerne are lon» and reach nearly to her ankles-
and they were evidently in a state of There l.s a rich profusion of lace and mus-
xpectancy. The programme opened lm PfticoatS, but the dress itself is very
ohn Le Clair, the fantariast and equil scant> and her heels are mll»ature Stdts.
nd he was followed by Dagmar and De Uae oi ner favorite gowns is of pink satin,
nd Herbert Albini. The Spanish Sti the upper part made in a square jacket
'were the next feature, and their . worn over a full bodice. A huge bunch of
music took at once with the audience, flowers is worn just below her waist, and
they were recalled, and nothing but th woulci look ungamlv on many, but seems
'tWrTe'ncore66 ** PreTe to be 3ust the tMng'to add to Carmencita's
Carmencita was warmly welcomed i chic- She is fond of a11 tQese Prett-V
enthusiastically perhaps as th? greetin gewgaws, the sequins and spangles and
. has been accustomed to receive in New laces, and they seem to be necessary to
1 but gratifying nevertheless. The musi her as a Spanish setting. She is a very
; furnished by the Spanish Students, an distinguished looking girl off the stage.
; redolent with echoes of Sunny Spain. uot more thau twenty-two. Her eyes are
mencita began with baniaeo. ' a ..,_ , • • .. i , , u *u «. j
ing, willowy dance in which tn< the gaming 3ft black orbs that do not
tions of the body formed as need tne black circles which she insists
a feature as the movement of her fe< upon artificially producing underneath in
was in fact something of a revelation in order to assert their beauty. Her hair is
ing to Boston, and its poetry and p; so thick and bushy on top of her head that
heightened by the piquancy of the han it stands out in a loose pompadour with
; SZfS 111 TrSta"et\ ' little ureing. In the back it is braided
the nature or a surprise. 11ns was sho , *_ n, , u.. , *.i j •
the rather feeble applause which follow aud has the end cauSht underneath, and is
danse, the spectators being a trifle h otherwise unbound. Her face is pale and
ered. by way of coloring it has only the reflec-
For an encore she gave '"La Cad tion of the bright tints in her gowns. She
and then the audience began to wake uj is fond of black for ordinary dresses, but,
and fro the woman whirled, with the curiously enough, wears cream-colored
grTcefufc^ Only . woman with
was a burst of applause. Again she resp sma11 aad Pretty feet WOuld venture uPOQ
to repeated calls, and danced "El Boler, sucn audacity* but, as a natural conse-
vit.ition to the bull fight), and the enthi quence, the eyes of her observers travel
laac'ued a still greater height. Carmen quickly toward the edge of her dress. It
a dancer that must be seen several time! is not easy to talk with Carmencita. She
appreciated. Her dancing is a novelty speaks Spanish as a person should who
iz^izfzx&xiZr* an rs br ia, s,paia-- butflher, ?nglnh a,nd
The remainder of the entertsiinraen *rench vocabularv ls conflned to "How do
devoted to the Barra troupe and the vou do?" and "Goodby." She has quite
scbau brothers. The engagement is fi a matter-of-fact air and the composure of
present week. only. f%< a nun.
Boston Theatre : Carmencita and CM
Carmencita came, capered and conq.
Monday night, -when the Boston Theatre
numerous host of spectators who were i
to enthusiasm by the bewildering move
of the light-footed dancer. This bewilde
was mora than momentary, for on snbse
reflection one is still perplexed to dete
the reason of her great reputation. Con
with other great dancers who have beei
here, she impresses neither by a surp
grace nor exceptional skill in saltation,
to be remembered, however, that the
stage-dancing is not taught in this cour
made a subject of study by connoisseui
is in Europe. Consequently, as in some
branches of art. it is only the difficult
astonishing features that move us, as
Carmencita, for all most of us can kno\
be giving us the characteristic dances
Peninsula, exactly in accordance with t'
tional traditions. Whether it be a i
cha or a bolero her "method," to borro
convenient term of voice teachers, seem
pretty nearly the same. The steps are si
the pirouettes are of uniform pattern, t
always the peculiar toss backward of the
there are "phrases" for walking on her to
at odd moments the snap of castanets is
A very distinct and peculiar charm <
woman's dancing is the steadiness
rhythm; a pendulum could hardly be
true; and it may be that this is, unconsc
the cause of her wonderful popularity,
rhythmic beauty, however, is not e
plished at the cost of variety of moT<
whioh is incessant, or of liveliness and e
which are constant. On the whole, sh
dancer to study by anyone who recogniz(
dancing is an art— the oldest of arts, foil
the dance sprang music, and after music
was born. "In the beginning was rhythm
Hans Guido von Biilow.
Carmencita gave two dances In imm
order and, loudly recalled, added anothei
was accompanied by a group of players
"The Spanish Students," eight p
one of whom is a graceful vi<
another uses a violoncello, and the n
der play mandolins and guitars.
-iling •eoq '^res'i 'ureuae^g 'poou "piv
SV9/L— 8A.im pu« fi«9.£ eqj ioj Snr[reo siav
'eoueunouoo-uou ut p»309t9J svm. jepa<
•es«d'pjnoqs japao
I pue 'tiounoo a^iq s,uoisoa ui aousptju
Iimeiabed oqi jo ssisui ipsgjS oqa no'
\iounoQ uorataoQ « 9Aeq 9*i sv 3aoj os
I inq *|«qi opioop exn^isiSeq eq^ wj
UOX SB !)SnC '009$ 10 OOeS U19l(l 9AJ£)
Xeqi Aes j 'Aiiq^s v uauijpunoo ©q^
jo uonsanb eqj spa«39i sy ;ueui p«q
j[«ras v jo 'sd«qa9d 'Aoagui 9qj %* o\c
iaiABoi pus Apoq UT301S e ui taaqj Suu
*ueuiaj9AoS jo si9Aiod gqi Abay aub ui
— 8
Carmenclta'i »«v - ne.
The other first night a. attracted
men about town was at Koster & Bial's.
Ted Solomons has written a burlesque
called "The Dumb Girl of Seville," espe-
cially for Carmencita. The charming
Spanish dancer speaks no English, but
she is bright, graceful and piquant, and
phe made a decided hit as an actress.
The burlesque is clever, the music catchy
and the costumes are something gorgeous
to behold Carmencita appeared in a
Spanish dress of black satin, heavy with
gold lace and embroidery, and Jennie
Joyce revealed her statuesque beauty to
an admiring public in a costume of white
satin and silver, blazing with Rhine
stones. She appeared as a brigand chief,
and there were a gross of assorted dudes
who yearned to be captured by this fas-
cinating bandit. The Carmencita rage
has given Koster's a tone which it did
not have before. It is quite the thing to
drift in there, and smoke a cigar and ab-
sorb a beer during the evening. The
show is always amusing, frequently art-
istic, and the man about town is mode- i
rately certain of meeting a lot of fellows !
he knows.
I much fear that Otero, the other
Spanish dancer, is. figuratively speak-
ing, in the soup. People are going to
the Eden Musee to see her, but she has
not the society backing that is enjoyed
by Carmencita. She is not the quiet,
demure damsel that her rival is. She
looks upon the wine when it sparkles,
and makes friends with the boys, the
result of which is that she does not get
invited to dance at Tuxedo, and Mrs.
Astor knows her not. Carmencita's
society pull is something prodigious, and
her private entertainments have added
not a little to her income. Otero, on the
other hand, goes out to suppers, and,
worst of all, she is a divorce. Now a
man may be divorced and still go into
the very best society. It does not hurt
his social standing much to appear as
co-respondent in divorce proceedings.
But if a woman is divorced, even if she
be the injured party, her name is, to use
the vernacular, "Dennis H. Mud."
Otero appeared as a dancer and singer ;
and Carmencita "saw her" and has ap-
peared as an actress. At the present
writing Carmencita is ahead in thegame.
Allan Fokmas.
KING OP SPAIN ADMIRED HER.
Otero, "\
■m Wff*U s OTERO_
The abdominal elasticity of these writhing ladies from Spain is the
feature to be noted above all else in a mention of their dancing. Otero,
who swirled into the Eden Musee last week with the accidental gyra-
tiveness of a column of smoke, expresses more with her flexile frontage
than most women can in an eight page letter. It spe aks in its flutter-
ings of maddening joys, of a perfect sympathy, of a love that consumes.
She and Carmencita are poetesses from the point of their busts down
to their shoe tops. Shelley and Byron carried their sublime fire in
their eyes. Th»-se Spanish women wear theirs in a sputtering girdle
about their waists.
The goddess of Koster & Rial's is full of rampant coils. She snaps her
head like a snake, and if yd ©™° AND TBE CZAK'
rattle. Otero is a gentler 0nce Opened by Rim From Russia, She
placidity, with only the gl Now Returns In Splendid Style.
ing of the passion within. Most per80ns who remember the first mania
could k tion that is just a little bit f0r Spanish dancing some four years ago have
h- her rival accomplishes. £ not forgotten Otero. After she leftN9w York
They did wax figUre<; jn the outer she appeared in Berlin, Paris, Vienna, and
whowal pU|j tfot]r rjvets out 0f the Budapest. In all four cities she was known as
Wconce feet to the tinkle oi tne m; the diamond Queen, because her neck, wrists,
intense^ 0tero satisfies the sens< and bodice were ablaze with gems whenever
i able, the two together make Twent shedanced. The German newspapers gave her
with th<any man who is not th and her diamonds columns of free advertising.
honest a! srabihtv line but 8t°PPed 9hort when informed that slie had
The gi y sold a11 her gems at auction for S57. The sale
years of _ took place in Budapest about two years ago;
has seen much pFHTe. \\ the purchaser was a Hungarian soubrette. From
Rill\n "riPfl tS,n?fl MaK 1 that time until late in last month little was
OTJP } P W ftwHxiuf mm quoiau heard of Otero. Three weeks ago, however,
ScruapTmqj si AviZ-uon oqi Iwou jriq this paragraph went the rounds of the Berlin
I9MJO Auv iB9stm pmoAv itjui saSnnic and Vienna dailies:
-opts snonOAJBuiXq spiOAtsoq puoog* "We hear from Madrid: One of the celebri-
ijs.iy oqx -raxq no ui Smsoio 9.re A9tfi ' ties who has come into public noWce in connec-
•8di39[ AiqSrat qjiAi goWistp SAioire tion witu Alexander HI.'s death and burial in
st'ounryttsaAa'siq '9ptAV9j^ simsousti St. Petersburg is our fellow country woman,
pa'[9JE siB9 sih -es'Bqo ouiio mids Carolina Otero. She was expelled from 11
9,U jo Itnj su surges pui) 'J9pu siu sb, lonS aK° because at a stag party given by a
-J9d su iib ^t spUBisJ9pun Ai'o 's'rn i Grand Duke she gave a too life-like representa-
•Jemraimmit tion of 'Truth,' that is, she appeared in the cos-
0AJ9U AM9A9 SttiniBJis 9jv Vive i '9n miir tume of Eve before the fall. As is well known,
oq'i jriiBau ojb seijaud Suisuvu 9ni jo £ she has been the favorite of whole families of
."Piou 9[otjav otn .{(i lUBistu tit; uiT)s«i3 princes and noblemen.
SufXusomoogqsoijq puu'iUKivii'wx^ "After the Czar's funeral she took it for
„'p'9[qnop„ sxjq peusjud out ;oj' granted that the order expelling Her from Kus-
•luauiinon s'a would become a dead letter, and she si arted
-.t-iu v aq» «o sgsjoq isjn em-^3u'soii1 f°r St. Pet ersburg. In itself her journey would
eajqi ui:qi ejotu soaopcismbuoo us have passed unnotu-ed had not she herself made
oqi am eieq iqshaiq sqvxy otn i( Ita topicof the times by carrying it out with
-puoosop AtjiJOAi :sijip99is'iu»'iirS«r royal and theatrical splendor Miss Otero rode
•dui 'ii iwavfrnm Paris in a special train consisting
Stq JoSAVotqpuusJtidSTimisoiiJiiiiii of a hotel car. a first-class carriage, and al
§BOittin o% 9SJoq sjq SuKra 'p«0tre •ttoJ ^8° van. The train was to stop only
«■•'.-"- ' chances of locomotives.
" This piece of amusement, which cost some
$22,000. was paid for bythe present admirer <
inoqsBp'iT.,»i'i>ih i bpanish beauty. Ho is a half-crazy English lord
|uios pin: -^i'isj n",. in V, ,'-, \ « »o wastes his time and millions in Paris. Thj
•woe Vwoqutw lies i... |l ,,,,,, friends of Carolina Otero fear that she will be
HI sd.M.us ,,;,:(,., m'u/ |r! ' i , sent Lack from St. Petersburg as swiftly as she
^eq cSrosml j&ouxa eqi' t '
pu* :euo to u.if\\.i,.T fii:a7 '11.7711
wt>nt there.
T7auo I I
GARMENCITA ON A CHARIOT
Attired in White Silk anc
Drawn by Handsome Men,
A Dazzling Scene at the Ball in Honoi
of the Spanish Dancing Girl in 3Vev
York— Music, Popping Corks am
Clinkins Glasses — Society Peopli
■Who Were in the Garden.
fSPECIXL PISPATCH TO THE BOSTON HEEALD.I
New Yokk, Jan. 30, 1S91. A lew me
stood in a group on the floor of the ampli
theatre of the Madison Square Garden
little after 8 o'clock tonight looking at th
picture which the vast place presented.
Above them, on the curved and radiatin
trusses of the Iron roof, gleamed 4000 ele<
trie lamps. They shed a light almost as it
teuse as that of an afternoon sun.
The immense floor, level from one end <
the oval to the other, gleamed like a mlrro
Its 30,000 square feet of surface wei
smooth almost to slipperiness wit
4000 pounds of wax, and at H
centre rose a platform, draped with redan
orange. It looked for all the world like th
platform upon which a slugging match was t
take place. rtopes ran around its edges, an
it stood almost exactly over the spot wher
In the days of the old Madison Garden, Sull
van and Mitchell met for battle.
But lc was for no fight "oetweeu men ; it w;
for nothing that any man should do that tt
great arnDhitheatre was lighted upsomaenl
cently. Rather it was for something that
woman had done, aud that a woman would di
Her name has been on the tongue of Ne
Yorkers for many months, and throughout a
the Uuited States the story has gone of wii
she is and of what she does. Her name
Carmencita, and she is a dancing girl froil
Spain.
Tonight a hall was given in her name a
In her honor, and the biggest ball room
New York city was filled almost to its gre
est capacity by those who had seen and mai
who never had seen the much talked
woman of the stage.
It was a most curious mixture of soci;
elements. Cornelia was there with her ai
teudants, and so was Sappho with hers. Tlj
scious of swelldom rubbed elbows that wei
clad in broadcloth against men who woi
short coats and high hats. Young girj
who never go away from their homes unlej
±'
attended by chaperones or maids sat in one
box, and eirls whose breakfasts are eaten
lato in the afternoon s=tt in another.
As early as S:30 o'clock a great throng of
ticket holders stood on Madison avenue, at
the main entrance. It was not until halt an
hour later that the doors were opened.
The first 300 persons to enter were
women. They came alone and in groups of
two, three and four. Not one of them was
accompanied by a mau. When the men be-
gan to arrive, thevjfound they would be forced
tosuDmit to a petty swindle or remain' out-
side. They had already paid $5 each for
tickets, but they bad to pay
SI a Head Rxtra for Hat Checks,
and $6 extra for hat checks for each box.
There was a tremendous crowd of
people squeezed in the entrance
hall, and out in Madison avenuo the
jam reached up and down for a block.
They were all indignant at the treatment,
and It looked as if some of the men angered
at the mismanagement would lead an attack
against the ticket takers.
The delay in getting people into the hail
necessitated a delay in the beginning o
the programme of the night. It had been
announced that Carmencita would make her
appearance at 10 o'clock, it was precisely
one hour Iatar, when the sound of music from
a band of Germans, dressed in the costume of
SpaDlsh dragoons, was heard announcing the
coming of the queen of the evening.
Every eye was turned toward the por-
tieres, behind which those who were to take
part in the procession stood. The leader
the band gave a signal, and m a moment
stepped out on the floor. A burstof applause
came from every part of the house.
Behind the yellow-coated musicians stepped
a tall young man carrying aloft a bann r
inscribed with the name "Carmencita."
Then followed boys and eirls in
the garb of Spanish peasants, young women
with dark faces wearing picturesque var-
ments of gypsys, and after them came o h ?r
Spaniards such as one might see in Grenada,
Barcelona aud Madrid.
Another herald and standard bearer
stepped along with Dages, Spanish students,
senoras and seuoritas, dancing girls and bull
fighters following.
At the very end of the procession came
Carmencita. She sat high upon a chariot
drawn by eight costumed men, with five
pretty girls walking on each side by the
wi eels.
Carmencita was dressed in a gown of white
silk, covered with lace aDd gold. Upon her
head she wore a white mantilla. In one
hand she carried a fau of ostrich feathers,
and with the other she held upon her lap an
immense bouquet of red and white roses.
There were nearly 200 men and -women and
gir;s in the procession, and they were
stretched out so as to extend entirely along
one side of the garden, so that while the
musicians were stepping by the Madison ave-
nue entrance Carmencita was just appearing
at the opposite end of the amphitheatre.
The sight of her was a signal for loudest
appiause. The procession wouud around
the hall twice, aud then went up
the centre toward the dancing plat-
form. The variegated column broke
of
anmit th? J?i3« d /Illen u»»ssea «§ SHE DANCED AND WON.
about the platform. Carmeneila's char
was drawn to its side, and, stepping from 1
soar, she found herself upon the tempora Carmencita, with Spanish Students and
stage, with the audience still applauding. ° Specialists, at the Boston.
to t.,pMZ1Wati1te,Ma?,iUa ^Mtteie<1 "Arms and the woman I sing."
to the floox. and she stooa still for a 8eCor Carmencita may not be what the average
her bare arms extended wide, her body ben spectator's anticipations have painted, but
little back, ana one foot forward. From t she is certainly an interesting study,
galleries ana boxes and tiers of seats can Dreams of sensuous, palpitating beauty
a burst of admiration for this gracef floating like thistle down on voluptuous
pr asant queen, in her gauzy, spangled skirt waves of music, may entertain theirnagina-
»>rb the proud, almost Insolent smile on In tive mind, but Carmencita is different.
'• e\ , . She is a bounding, buxom romp, mistress
burs. tfmnL^ll*^0?- Tllere was of the gestic art. "liberal of feet and lavish
U'usi 01 music, bne nad bowed .-inn w m. V j >■ -l i j ... j,
walking about her narrow ar™ of^ hands/ a holiday timed by music. .
with a swinging, graceful -non i Stripped of her supposed poetry, and m-
which her head, the flowers vested with voluminous hoopskirts. blue
her hair, the spangles of her gown "ever *?£ sold srown. diamonds and an undertow
muscle and limb seemed to unite to form rfe P1 fleecy clouds through which blue stock-
feet erace. p ings dart, she is like this :
Then the strains of the "Carehucha
and Carmencita took Are. She pirouetted o
tiptoe. Her body
til her head nearly
floor; back until it
A hoydenish giri of old Iberia, overtiow-
D^aa ing with animal spirits, posturing, pirouet-
ting and curveting before a mirror, for her
bpnr f,,r«7o^T — «ng ana curveting ueiore a mi
friv SSKS m own pleasure an I nobodv else's.
touched
th
The spectators are an accident in her
again; sideways.'^jn ^irctes method-
her :eet
moving all the while, her skirt
flashing ana fluttering, her arms swavin<
curvim:. Mow th« dance was slow'
again It was a mad whirl.
Auain the
is no speculation in those shiny black eyes-
unless it is an estimate of the number of
au' dollars in the house. She throws kisses, but
an\ it is evidently a part of the routine.
She is a creature of svstem and a most
Again the procession marched and a^ah ■?■ 1? WB»iu™ <£'. svbusui <mu a, mosi
Carmencita danced, and again and a* ai! admlrable 0De lt ls- Sh? S a t'10™^11 ath
Then they took awav the blarfnrm ™,. tt lete. as every movement shows,
floor was soon crowded wfth SSeT ader« i To a11 tbie RKJ",of th£ ballet tanc!L5 *£$
Then the ball began. There
of popping corks and sounds of cliukin
glasses. There was loud "untrammelled
, , America has before known she adds the
^e,t:^',1°di charm of frolic.
She bends far forward in a cramped atti-
tude, while she moves by heel and toe
laughter of women, and there was mus c o turte' ^nilf s1e /?,ove! Dy
theW, and ever, thing to make people fop ac£°i"*?? f£onl°f ^l^Pi
Crouching, she swings head and bust
round fast and forcibly, with the waist as a
pivot.
She nrances like a mettlesome horse.
;t what a nasty lime They had aUhe'uutei
gate where the hat checks had to be
bought. uc
And Carmencita watched it all, and fe'l tu"" V1""' FVtiS
that there was no society aiieen «iiVi Then Bhe pretends to ride lum
ever had the right to such a "glow of ecstatic ^eJ„e?lme? a^LeAmlil
&l3^hc'ollie,(l»"clll8 girl from faraway
bpam. the Pearl of Seville.
Among those present in the boxes
eric
Mr.
Mrs. Lewis c. Ledyard. Mr. and Mrs. Cooper
5SiWW$5,Mr- aAld Mrs- Fernando Yznaga? Mr
and Mrs. Clarence car v. Mrs. Fred!
Neilson, Mrs. Du'nlap Hopkins
and Mrs. William Jaffrav'
Mr. ana Mrs Hermann Oelriclw, Mrs
?^f^rJiVrJ0aTci^ Can,ei™ and
&,iP, ^ Fre£ Gebuard. Cremhton Webb
Elisha Dyer, Jr., Ollie Teal, Alderman Fred
StetoS"8, Turnbull. Jr., Frank XJ
opera chorus.
You can imaiine her as. the chorus, tripping
up and surrounding the mysterious hero
who is about to tell a wondrous tale.
Then she does some more romping to
music. Her castanets are always clicking.
They emphasize every gesture. Her head is
tossing, her black hair tumbling and shak-
ing, her eyes glittering, her bosomis heaved
upward as easilv as her strong plump arms
are whirled and wreathed Every inch of
ber is dancing, tier sinewy legs, modestly
enough concealed, stamp and spring.
Her footwear has no heels. She has reason
to disdain such artific al aid, for she rises
and sinks from heel to tiptoe as easily as
the bobolink teeters on an oat stalk.
■uo0toqiHlU\ '?}*™\ XodV w uoiubJuj
Z-~£ ~sskic 'men;-; '*J«
15P
aoftjo aqoif> '06 ~i
*1sp.l^«'aiTiiadinai !in9m.<o[diua Mq*^iml
ja^uojopooAv
W IN A FOREIGN TONGUE.
KMW1C1MM
illJ
an
"Post" Man Has
That Requires Three Dif-
ferent Languages.
HER OPINION OF BOSTON AUDIEK
(She Tefls About Her Dances and I
She Composes Them and the Physics
Fatigue They Entail— Her New
Dance to Be Given Tonight.
just
last
In the ttar's dressing room
.-aire of the Boston Theatre, Jast even
5*t a handsome young woman, warm
jwnting as if from robust exercise, her
dlaek hair falling around her graceful she
ere. and the roses with which her tresses
been decorated, were fast dropping to pit
II ir costume was of rich white silk, hem
with gold, and cut in the style one see Her
portraits of famous Spanish women. It ter
Carmencita and she had just come from creamy complexion
s) e is before the footlights, and having come
from a very flattering reception, she was in
the best of spirits.
"The Boston people!" she said in a combin-
ation of the three languages, "they are de-
lightful. They have told me they were cold
and unfeeling, bnt they are f nil of life ; they
bIiow their feelings even as well as INew York
people. They have given me a kind welcome
as they did last winter, and I shall not believe
InterV again when they say the people Have no
sympathy.
"My dances? Yes, I compose them all my-
self and they are very fatiguing as you tan
see. The Spanish dance has much moveme t
of the body and this last, "El Bolero" is v.. y
tiring, lrest very quickly however, for I have
danced so much I am used to it, but I feel the
fatigue a great deal for a few minutes.
"I have a new dance, which I give tomor-
row night. It is called "La Petinera," and it
vras very popular in New York. It is full oi
life and motion, and I hope it will plei
hare."
"You speak English very well." observe<
the Post man. "Was it difficult to learn?"
This was a little too much language for th<
pretty dancer to understand all at ouce,
she turned an inquiring look to the iutei
preter. The Post man quickly repeated thi
question in French, which she comprehended
at once, eyen if the pronunciation was not the
"»nrest Parisian.
"1 do not speak much English," she replied,
in the same triple tongue, "but I understand
well most everything. It is not so difficult to
hear, but it is hard to say. I am learning all
the time, for I want to know more about it.
Come tomorrow night and see my new danea."
It is not difficult to understand the charm
and attraction Carmencita has created
"wherever she has appeared. Even in repose
her movements are full of natural grace, and
her well-poised head is carried with dignity.
face is devoid of color, even af-
the exercise of dancing, and the
is more noticeable from
off
irvrfontrast with her luxuriant hair, which is in-
stage where she had been dehgnting the ;<;eEse]y Wack> fier handg ^ mM and
audience with her wonderful dancing of shapely, and her features are those of the
Bolero." As the Post man entered the i nigher style of Spanish women. When she
I the lady looked up with a pleasant smile ' speaks h«r face lights up, and she becomes the
motioned him to a seat. picture of animation As the Post man
m, . . . rose to go she said in the prettiest rrench, in
Then began a most cumous mterview whicu there was the daintiest of Spanish ac-
mencita can understand English fairly 1 cents:
but her vocabulary of the language is lim "Bon soir. Monsieur, venez ici demain."
She speaks French fluently, and Soanis "Avec plaisir. Signorita. bon soir," returned
course is her native tongue. Fortunate! the PosT man' mth a ^hty effort.
the Post man there was a Spanish interpreter
present, and, although the newspaper man
ha/* some knowledge of French, there were
times when the Spanish gentleman's assist-
ance was called into play. There was, how-
ever, little difficulty experienced. Car-
mencita has a bright, animated face, with
an expr?ssion even more pleasing than when
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