Life — August 28, 1884 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

- LIFE - nightingale. She was natural, unaffected and very shy, as she had been educated in a convent. Oscomar loved the Princess Sardine ; however, her refusal of him did not make him a suicide—it made him mad. He was determined to show her that he no longer cared for her, so he proposed to Isolde. He did this solely as a matter of convenience, as he did not feel any love for her at all. Her aunt, the Duchesse de Varnes, said to her: “You have no dower. You must take the veil, and go back to end your days in the convent.” “Nun of that for me,” replied the high-spirited girl. “I will marry Oscomar.” So she did, but she soon found out that the Princess Syn- taxine was the fair pawnbroker to whom her husband had pledged his heart. Moreover, he had evidently lost the ticket, and could never reclaim it. Isolde was in despair. To take her own life was the correct caper, under the circumstances, but she was too proud to thus expose her misery. She want- ed an excuse for the act. One day she took out the diamonds which her husband had given her as a wedding present, and unwrapped the outer covering of paper—the very same paper that Oscomar had taken from off a bottle of cologne and hastily folded around the package when he sent it to her—she wanted to assure herself for the three hundredth time that the gems were not paste. As the paper fell to the floor she noticed some char- acters written on it. What were they? Did the words re- fer to the diamonds? She read—* GLass! WITH CaRE!” The letters danced before her eyes. He had cheated her. It was enough. The next morning, they found her lifeless form at the foot THEY FOUND HER LIFELESS FORM AT THE FOOT OF A RUINED TOWER. of a ruined tower. The pitying world said, “Pauvre petite / It was not accident, and it was not because she thought her jewels were counterfeits,” and under their breath they added, “Tt was Sardine Syntaxine !” 119 On the same day, at the instigation of the Princess, Prince Syntaxine fought a duel with a French Count. Before the police arrived and the affair was stopped, the Prince was run through the body, and Sardine was a widow. “How I long for something to happen,” she sighed, as she was making some new entries in her book. ‘ This unevent- ful lifeis beginning to tell on my spirits. I believe I shall die of ennuz yet. In ten days, only four people have been killed on my account, and for a thoroughbred Princess, that is a pitia- ble record, indeed !” At all events, poor little Isolde was out of the way now, and that tiresome old Prince was gone, so that she and Osco- mar were free to do as they chose. She smiled mysteriously as she thought of him. Should she complete her mastery over him? Or should she coldly banish him? Which? * * * * * * * “My dear,” she said to him at the breakfast table, about two months later, “won't you please attend to those little bills on the mantel-piece, and don’t forget to tell the man to come around and fix the roof, and—oh, yes !—please order a larger quantity of ice every day, and we need about two tons more of range coal.” CARLSBAD. The bitter end. A SECLUDED SpoT—The ace up your sleeve. * HEADLINES—Wrinkles. Ye GAME OF COMMERCE. MAIDEN sighed, as tears bedewed Ye violets in her eyes, “ Alackaday ! I have not won Yon pretty, pretty prize.” “Dear girl,” a youth beside her said, In low, impassioned tone, “Not only have I lost ye prize, My heart is likewise gone.” What shall ye youth and maiden do Their fortunes quick to mend ? He'll take her little hand in his And to ye parson wend. HE 7ryblazne organ says: “ You can count on the Am- erican colony in Turkey as nearly a unit for Blaine.” Thanks, dulcet organ, for the information. So it would ap- pear, then, that Mr. Blaine is not only running on his native heath, but throughout the Ottoman Empire also—a sort of double-barrel candidate, as it were. Such being the case, success attend the campaign of the Boss-for-us, and may he as surely come out at the big end ‘of the Golden Horn as he is fated to emerge from the smaller aperture of Uncle Sam’s Presidential trumpet. comicbooks.com