Life — December 4, 1913 — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

AGGIE McCUNE climbed on a chair to tie a branch of mistletoe to the gas jet. It was Mr. Mayo’s night for calling and the girl had decided on one of those bold yet feline measures that have toppled thrones and changed the fortunes of dynasties. Mr. Mayo had been calling on Mag- gie now for nearly a year. She was well aware that he loved her but con- scious that he was obsessed by an aw- ful shyness that kept the two for- ever on the verge of a closer under- standing. It was as yet a purely con- servatory flirtation. She called him Mr. Mayo and he called her Miss McCune. This was not Maggie’s fault. She was warm-hearted, friendly and sen ble, but Jimmy’s formal manner froze her up. She had even once told him that her name was Margaret and asked him if he thought it pretty. He stammered that he did and she asked what his name was. Surely a_ girl could do no more. nesse was the thing, she decided, and the result was this branch of mis- tletoe. Something had to be done. Father and Mother McCune were be- ginning to twit their daughter a bit peevishly about this affair. The gas bills were high. And Maggie pined. Love is a great reduction cure. But the beginning of this romance is really more remarkable than its end- ing, for the ending is only a little Christmas climax—while the beginning shows clearly how the moving finger of Fate writes the destinies of love. A painting by a great French artist was what brought Jimmy and Margaret to- gether, It hung over the bar where Jimmy presided in a glittering establishment where the free lunch was so splendid that it attracted the very flower of masculinity. The place was actually fashionable and you were likely to Mistletoe ‘By Kate Masterson meet anyone there from a king of fi- nance to a cotillion leader. The painting was a typical Bou- guereau showing a beautiful scantily- draped young woman apparently float- ing through the atmosphere. Her gorgeous hair was reddish brown and about her head was a wreath of glossy green leaves lying flat with little glinting white berries here and there like bits of snow, There was no title on the frame, but Jimmy got to know that it was a remark- able picture and had cost thousands of dollars. Thirsty critics who stood on one foot before Jimmy’s altar spoke of its flesh tints, its lightness, its beauty, un- til he almost began to understand art. Personally while he liked the girl's biz purple friendly eyes and her tender mouth, he could have wished that she had chosen more conventional attire. He knew nothing of nymphs and dry- ads and very little of women. And as none of those who admired the work seemed to know or care what the real meaning of the picture was it was considerable of a mystery to Jimmy. He always felt a sense of relief when in the summer a sheet of white mos- quito netting was stretched across the canvas. Then the misty beauty seemed more in keeping with his ideas and he al- lowed himself to consider her more boldly and to realize the charm which she cast over the drinks which he con- cocted so cleverly that he had estab- lished a veritable prestige of his own. He had made friends among the patrons of the place, for while Jimmy occasionally murdered the English language, he was witty and quick, merry-eyed and athletic. In fact, as a bartender, he would have delighted the heart of the late W. Gilbert, for he was everything ene would not expect in one of his trade. He was unconsciously aesthetic, fastidious and an idealist so far as women were concerned, with a tend- ency toward romanticism. His mother had died when he was a small boy and an aunt had brought him up with the idea of making him a priest. When she died he was cast adrift and had to pick up a living. Thus he drifted to the bubble and fizz emporium and touched elbows across the polished counter with men of might in the big world. They gave Jimmy tips on stock that had made his savings-bank accopnt snug. They had offered him positions far ahead of the one he held, but Jimmy saw its opportunities and hung on. He was doing well and had one trouble only. He was lonely. He defi- nitely wanted to get married and have a home. And he didn’t even have a girl or know any girl that he cared for. This, of course, was before the time when Margaret came across his path to fulfill their destiny. It was also the time when the beautiful young lady above the bar got to be known as Jimmy’s Girl! It happened this way in the beginuaing. Van Slatter who came in every day for a five o'clock bracer was one of the men who had twice offered Jimmy a chance to start in one of the more artistic professions than the one he then adorned. Jimmy could box and was built like a Cushing illustration. Van Slatter entertained in the back of his head a desire to become an ama- teur society White Hope. Twice he invited Jimmy to join him on a yachting cruise at a good salary as athletic instructor and trainer—a sort of Muldoon afloat. When Jimmy refused politely the second time, Van Slatter hid his miffed feelings in the foliage of a mint julep. He couldn't for the life of him understand why such an offer should be refused.