Life — April 24, 1884 — page 7: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

- LIFE: of the ring. Behind the red curtain the Albino Elephant swayed to and fro. Secretly and in dark- ness the High Priest had given him his coat of paint ; in darkness, he had covered him with his hangings, and now he was ready to come forth. “Lapigs AND GENTLEMEN,” announced Mr. Bay- rum, as the elephant entered, “You have now before you the Imperial Holy Albino Elephant ; the only one in the world outside of Siam. Mr. Hindpaugh brought him to this country at an expense of over $300,000. He has been the fet and daily companion of King See- saw of Siam; has been worshipped by 2,000,000 people, and is usually called ‘The Sunflower of the Orient,’ ‘The Trampler of the Universe,’ etc. It has been said that his hide is artificially colored, but this is an OUTRAGEOUS FALSEHOOD. The holiness of the ani- mal is established Jeyond dispute by the fact that the hairs in the tuft on the end of his tail, grow orizont- ally with his body, and you can all see his whiteness for yourselves. As the attendants remove the trap- pings, he will stand before you in his true and natural SNOWY SKIN !” The coverings fell from the elephant’s sides and he loomed up beside the High Priest resplendent with a coating of emerald hue. He had been painted green, instead of white. “Well, I swan !” ejaculated the Priest. “Howly Moses! But wud ye luk at the baste!” said the Chinese Giant. “Golly, somefin’ de matter dar, suah!” muttered the Zulus, while the roar that went up from the multi- tude so scared the little dwarf that he forgot to sell his photographs. "If it had not been that at this criti- cal moment a boy shouted “Fire” and the audience stampeded wildly for the exits, it is impossible to pre- dict what would have happened. CHAPTER III. HE next morning at rehearsal, the High Priest was missing. He had fled. Horatio did not say much about the phenomenal color of the elephant, but he quietly stole off to the monkey cage and got one of its occupants to give him a congratulatory pat on the back. His plan had been successful and his chance to speak to Vivienne came soon after. In a secluded corner of the circus tent, as she sat perched on the pole of the tigers’ wagon, Horatio knelt at her feet and declared his tender passion. “Miss Murphy—Susan,” he pleaded (for that was the young lady’s real name), “do you think that you could ever learn to love me? Do you care for mein the least, at present ?” “Yes,” she almost whispered, coyly hanging her head, “I think you are the nicest curiosity I ever met.” “Really?” gasped Horatio. “But were you not fond of the Siamese High Priest?” “No,” replied Miss Murphy, as she stroked her iron jaw reflectively ; “I don’t think I was.” “Why did you lend him your ring, then?” “Because—” and she paused in a hesitating man- ner—“ because—I thought you were flirting with the Electric Girl.” 931 “Nonsense,” he cried. “She shocks me and I detest her. I love you, and you only. For you, I have braved a great danger, have taken a tremendous tisk. I care for no one in the world but yourself. My passion for the ‘ Bearded Lady’ is long since dead. I hate the sight of the ‘ Two-headed Nightingale,’ and I positively loathe the ‘ Four-legged Blonde.’” In return for these protestations, Miss Murphy as- sured Horatio that she reciprocated his unalloyed affection, and loved every pound of him. She had once smiled on Mr. Bayrum, and had sometime before carried on a desperate affair with a bare-back rider, but that was aJl of the past. “Do you know what has become of the High Priest ?” she asked. Horatio was silent. “You have not murdered him ?” she cried, as she detected a guilty expression stealing over his face. ‘ “No,” he replied, “and I don’t know where e is.” : “Tell me,” she said, searchingly, “what was the cause of the elephant’s turning green? I am sure you know.” “Jealousy,” he responded. “He turned green through jealousy. But answer, dearest, will you be mine for ever?” “ Jawfully,” she murmured. Then suddenly stoop- ing, she seized his coat in her teeth and lifted him to his feet. He clasped her to his breast and pressed her iron jaw against his cheek—she was his at last. CARLSBAD. CIGARETTES FOR SENORITA. HE incense rises and the ashes fall, For lovely lips we perish one and all. In smoke and ashes these shall pass away, The lips that kiss shall waste them in a day. Think you the something that we dare not name Would burn as warmly if you sipped the flame? Think you the perfume would be half as sweet, The ashes lie as lightly at your feet? Jacques Danet AT THE ACADEMY. N the opposite page we have the honor of pre- senting to our readers a few sketches which, to many who have already “done” the Academy, will serve as pleasant souvenirs of their visit, while those who have not yet seen the exhibition will gain a more or less vigorous idea of the delights which await them. There are those who think American art still in its infancy ; but be that as it may, we certainly know what we wish to paint, and are wise enough not to feel ashamed when we have made ourselves ridiculous. Providence, in this respect, has been very kind to our academicians. From Doddridge : “Olives while you live the epi- cure would say.” Omnia vineit labor—hard work gets away with all of us. comicbooks.com