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sunrise:Tfcfr colors of the.morning spread,O’er all the eastern sky.Pale-green and gold and tea-rose red,And purple of porphyry.The wet grass gfistens lik^filvor thread, And the still stars fade and die.The day begins her wistful chase For the fleeing nsgitt to seek,And the .oriole sitigs his song of grace,But my heart is weary and weak; Forth© thought of one absent face,And a longing I cannotspeak.—fDetrbife Free Press,a CAPITAN ORDINARIO.BT FKANCKS ISABEB CURRIE.If a stenographer had taken verbatim notes of Esteban Garcia's daily conversation he would have had considerable practice in writing the adjectives “mag-nifico” and “ordinario.” The first was always accompanied by an expression of rapt admiration, and was applied to the speaker’s own achievements; but when he said “ordinario'’ he drew down the corners of his mouth and elevated his shoulders to his ears, to express his consuming contempt for common things.Nature had intended him to be ordinary himself. His name was as multifarious in Spain as Smith is in America. •His parents were humble peasants in the rovince of Madrid. His education had ecu very superficial, and he had never been taught good maimers. If he had made no ^effort to be conspicuous he would never have been noticed, liather than appear “ordinario” he had adopted the extraordinary fashions of the sporting fraternity of his province. He emblazoned his person with jewels and medals, and lie was commented upon quite as much as he would have been if his antecedents had not been “ordinario.”His life had been extraordinary. He had been an acrobat, a matador, and an aeronaut. He was admirably adapted to each and all of these vocations. He had no physical fear, and his muscles were firm as steel and as elastic as the thews of a panther. He had experienced some frightful falls in his acrobatic and aerostatic careers but his bones were never broken. In his vocation of matador he had been hustled and gored by infuriated bulls, yet he had never lost a day’s work by these casualties. He had disdained the use of a basket or car while giving his aerial exhibitions, and had hung from a trapeze depending from the balloon. With one muscular hand he held his own weight while he blew kisses to the spectators from the finger-tips of the other. He had been slammed by the wind against the sides of buildings, and dropped from the balloon into the sea—almost into the smiling jaws of sharks. He had escaped from all these perils unscathed, and appeared in Washington in a new role. He introduced himself to the Spanish Legation as “Captain Esteban Garcia, inventor and master of the science of aerostation.”He had brought a giant balloon, and a model of a flying-machine to this country. This last contrivance was propelled by an electric motor, lie claimed that it was no helpless bubble to be tossed by every capricious wind, but a navigable air-ship that could be moved horizontally. It was his ambition to sell it to the War Department of the. United States Government. He claimed that it would do away with the necessity of skirmishing parties, and he dilated upon the advantages of taking observation of the enemy at a safe altitude, and of commanding an army by means of signals from a distance of twenty mi'es.While his petition was going slowly through the rounds of governmental red-tapism he went to board at Mrs. Otero’s.There was a clover young lady in the boarding-house whose name was May Sheffield. She contributed articles to the Washington journals, and was so bright and viiacioiti llmt she at once excited the Spaniard's interest. In a week they were on friendly terms; in Jivo weeks they were almost continually in each other's company; and at the end of three weeks it was generally believed they were engaged.The girl's parents were dead, and no one seemed under obligations to support her, but slio had proved that she could take excellent care of herself. She was almost childish in appearance, but she wrote in a masterful manuer not in keeping with her youthful face. She was a graceful girl, with yellow hair, and brown intelligent eyes. Certainly she bore no resemblance to the proverbial Stetrong-minded blue-stoelcing.At one time the gossips had asserted that Bobort Stoddard would marry Miss Sheffield.' lie was her editor, and was a man of admirable character. He was a tall, powerfully-built fellow, with a strong face and good features. He had , been very attentive to May Sheffield, but when he discovered that he could not visit her without finding the aeronaut in her company he discontinued his visits.In spite of Senor Garcia’s inherent vulgarity he soon enjoyed some prestige among his fellow-bqarders. Ho entertained them with accounts of his marvelous exploits, told how he had faced death in every conceivable form, and had been the central figure of every sort of dramatic situa1 ion. All this was interesting, even if it was not true.He was shrewd enough to appreciate Miss Sheffield’s talents and to make use of them. He had many schemes for enriching himself, and he discussed his plans with her. He explained the uiccbanism of his flying machine, and induced her to write a glowing description of it. When the article was finished she had the effrontery to ask Stoddard to print it. Ho accepted it rather ungraciously, and said editorially that Garciahad yet to demonstrate the practicability of the electric machine. Heretofore balloons had never been1 successfully raised by electricity. Even Edison had tried the experiment with no good results. If Garcia could do more inihis particular than the American electrician Mr. Stoddard’s,. journal would like to know it.This comment gave the aeronaut more -of the notoriety' that he craved. He loudly declared that the editorial had been prompted by malice and jealousy. He said that he could perform feats that no other aeronaut could perform, and could manipulate lightning as no other electrician had manipulated it.He resolved to mai'ry May Sheffield. Previous to meeting her he had intended to marry some rich woman, but he believed that this girl had talents that would be as valuable to him as gold. She had a powerful pen, and readily commanded the attention of the public. He wanted this attention directed to him. He hungered and thirsted for notoriety and believed she would be a reliable advertising medium for him as soon as their interests were identical. To do him justice, this was not his only ncentive to marry her. He was sensible oi her beauty and charm of manner. What Spanish cavalier could fail to appreciate her eyes, her soft complexion, her perfect mouth? Garcia rejoiced when he reflected that he had routed the American editor from tlie field.He persuaded Miss Sheffield to write his biography. Mrs. Otero saw them poring over the manuscript together and called them Othello andDesdemona.The sketnh Miss Sheffield wrote was vivid and dramatic. It began with the daring feats of the acrobat; followed his career to the bull-flght, and told how he sprang into the arena with the grace and litlieness of a panther, then described the fearless manner in which he dispatched the mad brutes that would have killed him. Afterward it gave a clear-cut description of hip aeronautic performances; and, first and last and all, she extolled his bravery. Garcia trembled when the biography was translated to him. He believed it would make him famous, and it gratified his vanity to know that this brilliant woman could write of him so admiringly.She had the audaciousness usual with pretty women, so she asked Stoddard to print the biography.“Do you know that this is true?” he asked. “It is a rule of this office to print nothing that cannot be verified.” “This story can easily be verified,” she answered. “I had it from Senor Garcia's lips. Of course he knows all about his own history.”“Oh, of course! Stoddard remarked, laconically; “but I ihink I have heard it mentioned that people do not always tell the truth about their own exploits. Your article is cleverly written, but we can’t use. it. If the Government purchases the flying-machine we will devote some space to it, but we are not going to advertise the areonaut gratis.”“You will regret your decision when you see this in some other paper,” she persisted. “Why, even Eider Haggard’s stories of adventure pro tame when compared with Senor Garcia’s liie. His story is like one of Jules Verne’s.”“Like the Baron Munchausen’s, you mean,” Stoddard commented.* . * # * * # . *The biography was not offered to auother editor, but was enlarged and printed in pamphlet form. Capt. Garcia proposed to give aerial exhibitions, and the pamplets were to be sold on these occasions. The Government had pronounced his flying machine to be of 110 practical use, and he had published a card saying that he would demonstrate its practicability. He would give three exhibitions at Meteor Park: first, he would show the public the hot air or primitive system of raising a balloon; then he would make an ascension by means of gas, and finally he would illustrate how the science of aerostatics had progressed by spending two hours in midair in his electric flying machine. He claimed to have studied the wing movements of birds until lie had fathomed nature’s secret of flying. /Miss i-heilield met Stoddard one day ami thanked him for having declined to print the biography. If he had published it in its original form she would have received twenty dollars; under the new arrangement the aeronaut was to pay her one hundred dollars after the first ascension.“You had better get your money in advance,” Stoddard said. “Flying is risky business for any one but angels; and there may not be any second ascenr sion. The first may put a stop to his soaring. ”“ I prefer to wait until he has been enriched by the gate money.”“But there may not be any gate-money,” he persisted. “Why should any one buy a ticket to enter an inclosure when he can sit on a neighboring fence and command a fine view of the spectacle? As soon as the balloon rises as high as the wall of the inclosure any beggar outside can see ii as well as can the aristocrat in a private box.”Nevertheless, many persons went inside the inclosure to see the captain and his balloon, Stoddard and Miss Sheffield among them. The aeronaut made the ascension while the band played “Up in a balloon, boys, up in a balloon, All among the little stars, sailing round the moon.”Stoddard bought one of the pamphlets to read at his leisure. He had given the biography but cursory'' hotice at his office, but his interest in it had increased. Ashe and Miss Sheffield were ^leaving the amusement grounds together they saw Mrs. Otero in the crowd. She was talking earnestly to her escort and. did not notice their approach.“The aeronaut and the young lady he means to marry are living in my house,”, she was saying. “She is a journalist named May Sheffield. They will, prob-ablyjnake their wedding-journey in his flying-machine, and if they come down, alive she will .write up’ her' aerial experience for Mr. Stoddard’s paper. By the way, he was in love with her long before she was captivated by this jumping-jack.” • . . .Stoddard drew his companion out of reach of Mrs. Otero’s voice. His expression was as impenetrable as that of the' Sphinx, but the girl’s face was flaming, her eyes full of angry tears. He might have doubted Mrs. Otero’s words if May Sheffield’s crimson face had not confirmed them.That night he read the biography almost savagely. Viewed in this new light it appeared as if the writer had put her heart in her work, and had glorified every heroic action to which Garcia laid claim. Stoddard distrusted the Spaniard, who had seemed particularly vainglorious on that day.He remembered that May Sheffield wa3 rather self-willed, and he reflected that she would doubtless marry Garcia if she liked him. She had no relatives to advise her or to inquire into the Spaniard’s past history. Stoddard was rather too young and too good-looking to he a model mentor, but he assumed this thankless role, even while he knew that the task he was undertaking was likely to be fruitless. He believed that women made a virtue of clinging to their worthless lovers and vagabond husbands.The biography told where Garcia had been, and Stoddard cabled to several places specified, for information concerning the Spaniard’s character. The answers received stated that the scientific flyer was a swindler, who had stolen an ingenious toy that another man had invented. The machine would float in air, but its motor could raise no greater weight than ten pounds. It was as useless a contrivance as the famous flying-machine made by Darius Greeu. Wherever Garcia had stopped he had advertised three ascensions to be made by as many different motors. When he had exhibited the hot air and the gas systems of ballooning he invariably ran away. This was necessary, since he could not make an ascension in the electric flying-machine. In several instances he had left with more of the gate-money than legally belonge'd to him, and a number of irate managers were eager to see him.On the day appointed for the second ascension, Stoddard went to Miss Sheffield. He-knew that Garcia would try to marry her, and, under some pretext, get away before the day of the third performance. Stoddard meant to tell her what he had learned, even if it broke her heart. She probably would not believe him, and would hate him cordially for his interference, but while there was a faint hope of saving her from being snared by an adventurer he must tell hev the truth.He did not find her, but insteadfound Mrs.. Otero in tears. Both the aeronaut and the young lady had moved from the house. Miss Sheffield had gone that morning, and the Spaniard had surreptitiously removed his lugnge the night before. It was clear that the couple had eloped, although it was probable that they would remain in the vicinity of Washington until after the ascensions. As Garcia owed Mrs. Otero considerable money she was naturally anxious to see him.Stoddard also wanted to see him and i to trace May Sheffield through him. IMuch to his surprise, Stoddard found her at the amusement grounds. When j he entered he saw her standing in a re- I mote part of the place, holding a satchel j , in her hands. The idea occurred to him j I that she intended to wait there until !! after the performance, when she and the i aeronaut would go away together. IBefore the editor reached her side she j was accosted by an unpleasant-looking 1 man in seedy garments. He had a cunning, almost crafty expression, and his 1 manner was so significant of secrecy that j Stoddard thought he might be an ac- j complice whom Garcia had chosen to aid j in the elopement. He spoke just as Stoddard reached Miss Sheffield's side.“Are you ready?” he asked. “Have you it here?”She had taken what appeared to be a letter from her satchel, when Stoddard laid his hand upon her shoulder.“Do not send it,” he said, sternly. “Do nothing before I have talked with you. I have something of terrible importance to tell you.”He had drawn her arm through his, and was halt leading, half dragging her from the place, when with her disengaged hand she again offered the man the paper.‘ ‘If you take any action now you will regret it all your life.” Stoddard’s tones were so low that she alone could hear them, but she disregarded his words. “I know that your letter is to Esteban Garcia. I know that you mean to marry him. I have something to tell you that ought to make you think well before you take such an important step. If you refuse to hear me you will ruin your life and mine.”Ia spite of his commands and assertions she appeared unmoved. She gave the man the letter.Gontrary to Stoddard’s expectations, she turned then and gave her attention to him. He saw his advantage and hurried her out of the place. Once she hesitated and would have stopped, but he drew her ou toward his carriage. He begau to breathe freely when they were on their way to the city. And then he told her all that he had learned about Garcia. She kept her face averted while he talked, but every line in her rigid little figure betrayed the fact that she was listening. He would not spire her; he dared not pity her, but he told the hard facts with a directness that would have been Brutal if the necessity had been less urgent.“You know that I of all men am no scandal-monger,” he said, “You know that I would condemn no human creaturewithout proof of his unworthlness. Yon have no father or brother to giiayd or caution you, and you should therefore listen to your friends. You should have kept-the letter until you heard me.”Her eyes were downcast, her voice pretematurally grave. , 1“As you. are my editor you have an unqualified right to criticise my manuscripts,” she said; “but you have no license to intercept my love-letters, to go over them with a blue pencil, or yet to consign them to the waste-paper basket. You have no right to question my conduct, but I am going to take you into my confidence, and tell you that the paper I gave away in spite of your remonstrances was not a very dangerous document. It was nothiugmore or less than an empty envelope. I gave it to a depu-ty-sheriff,” she continued, composedly. “He intends to serve an injunction upon Garcia prohibiting him from making an ascension until he has paid one hundred, dollars for his biography. I did not know that my lawyer intended to havo the paper served to-day, or I would havo staid away from the grounds. When K saw the sheriff I divined his purpose, and asked him to put the paper in an envelope. I thought it would thus ba less conspicuous to the audience, and I did not wish the aeronaut to be un necessarily embarrassed. The injunc tion must have done its work, and the bill must have been paid, for the balloon is in the air.”She was looking back toward Meteor Park, and as her companion was too astonished, too overjoyed to speak, sha continued her story:“I would never have pressed him for the money, but my lawyer manages all matters of business for mo, and ho has discovered that the Spaniard is constitutionally averse to paying his debts. Now that I have been so frank with you, I would like you to tell me why you thought I was going to elope. I have a satchel with me, but even an old bachelor like you must know that it is not large enough for a bridal trosseau. It holds nothing but the tools of my trade, pencils, envelopes, a writing pad, and a penknife. I was going to ‘write up’ the ascension.”“You and the aeronaut have both removed your luggage from Mrs. Otero’s. ”“I know nothing about the aeronaut’s luggage, but I removed mine to another house because Mrs. Otero talks too much. She told fibs at Meteor Park. She said I was engaged to a jumping-jack.”Stoddard had a vague impression that he had been making an ass of himself, but he was too supremely happy to be greatly concerned about it.“She told one true thing,” he said. “She said that I loved you. I am not such a light and airy creature as your ex-lover now sailing over our heads. I am frightfully mundane, and I confess to weighing one hundred and seventy-five pounds. I cannot fly at all. Would I not make a better husband on that account? I want to stay on earth, May, and marry you.She had known that for a long time, but for some inscrutable reason had tormented him by making him jealous. Now she turned her face toward him. It was womanly and sweet, aud her eyes were humid with happy tears.“Then I am glad you cauuot fly,” she said.—(Frank Leslie’s.
Newspaper Details
Monroeville Weekly Breeze
Monroeville, Indiana, US
Wed, Feb 05, 1890
Page 4
Full Page
Clipped by
Anonymous
USA 17 Apr 2025
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