The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, September 29, 1901, Page 2

THE SUNDAY OCALL. woman is somebody’s It may be her people are be ‘the peop x aaoring population’ of one all, red haired, fréckle -faced man that she owes her regalia, but—she And there js no disrespect in it may s & queen. h is example, for the impulse of adoration is merely the steam of sentiment at high pressure. Tradition has declared that a queen is the finest woman within a given radius of observation. Gallantry has embarrassed tradition and confused the radius. When I was presented to Senorita Al- fonsa Aldama and was told that she was the queen of beauty in Cuba, so declared in Havana by a majority public vote of eighteen thousand, criticlsm was dis- armed and sentiment became intrusive. It i & human impossibility to be a stojo in the presence of a queen of beauty., I ehallenge any man to prove it otherwise. 1 have been under fire of various queens =& Queen of burlesque, & queen of tra- sody, & queen of song, even a tight rope Quegn—but there was no flavor of senti- ment in them compared with this queen of Cuba. Beauty in & manner is a comparative wuality, governed by difference of Gpinion, bus there a¥e women whom nature has 5o mgelded and stamped that the whole world calls them queenly. Thers are women who bear a charmed expression that scatters the evil they &y enoounter in lifs, women who com- mghd the allegiance of men and women alike By their birthright of fine natures.” There is & golden thread woven into the nstures of the well born that no werldly storm can tarnish, no rags of misfortune conceal. Its influence is as the rare goiden light of a September gloaming, that makes one forget the ugli- ness of details and paints a picture of the erdinary things in a landscape. This Cuban beauty has, above all things, that graceful quality that is born, end not acquired—the quality of distimc- tion. She suggests Emma Calve as she looked at the same age as the senorita. in her face the dormant faculty of thought that most of the acknowledged beauties. Her eyes are large, dreamy, dark, and they look at you with simpls There is is rare in t artifice, quite perhaps, for , a little too serio an accomplished beauty. I fancy, however, that Senorita Alfonsa Aldema is not so accomplished in the subtle arts as one might expect of beauty, for she has been brought up in the se- vere restrictions of a Cuban household, In Cuba young women of the social world are never allowed to be seen in the society of a man alone, and never on the streets, at the theater, in the parks where the people congregate in the Gool of the evening, without a chaperon or a member of their own families. “The only thing the girls may do in Cuba is to get married.” the in explanation of the ea: ages that are made there, ’ enorita In the presence of a beautiful woman one is cokfronted with a problematic question as to whether she has as miuch heart as she has beaut It is not a rea- sonable nature that stion, for there is no rule of mits it, but as the mind of man persistently casts cynical shadows on the fairest things of earth, the tradi- tional notion that beauty is heartless has survived. The sequence of this thought demanded that T skould ask the Quecn pf Beauty how she had so far escaped the ignominy of marriage. I say ignominy in a Cuban sense, no marrjed woman can ever be a Queen of ‘Beauty in Cuba. It is forbidden. Of course, a direct reply was not to be hoped for, not even expected, but the senorita has become sufficiently Ameri- canized to value that enigmatical delight of modern femininity known as a ‘“good time.” A “good time” is never so good after marriage, and the senorita informed me in her own demure fashion that these were her convictions. ““You are not even engaged?” I ventured in tremuléus innocence. “Not at all,” for she said, as she looked compassionately upon me, with a faint smile as she said it. “Then what is the prize one gets for be- ing a Queen of Beauty in Cuba?” I asked, really perplexed. “I received a gold jeweled watch, which I—here you say—raffled?” “Raffled!” I said. “Yes, raffied among my friends, and raised $1000, which I gave to the poor of Havana.” Never say again that beauty is heart- less! If cold type could but describe the soft, lisping accent of the Cuban woman when she speaks English the winning ef- fect of this simple acknowledgment that beauty has Meart could not escape the most cynical reader. The romantic side of the senorita’'s n#- ture was adamant—that is, to an inquisi- tive interviewer. Perhaps I was inefii- cient in this direction; most men are. Yet in some degree I was rewarded for my curiosity. “I am very plain. I like only to enjoy elf,” sald the senorita frankly. “And what is your enjoyment?” “To go to theaters, have a good time.” “You read?” “Yes, T am fond of reading.” “What books?” I asked, curious to measure the influence of mind on mat- ter. “Perhaps, if I tell' you, people will be surprised to think that I read such books,” she said hesitatingly. I braced myself for the shock and steeled myself to her embarrassment. m operas, Lalls—to t at all. I am sure you have read ing thoughtless,” I said encourag- ingly The senorita’s nature is simple, as T said before. There is really no artificial coquetry about her. She. is too well bred for affectation, and she answered me thoughtfully, seriously. . “I @m.very fond af Paul Bourgét's books and al¢o Stenkiewicz.” Modern, to be gure, but modern classics. “And poetry " I asked. “I'am fond of fine poetry by the great poets; but poor poems, I cannot read them." It was difficult to make her acknowl- edge these graces of mind. She was con- stanfly telling me how she objected to “ostentation,” to “personal parade,” as she called it. Yet I have known young women, as beautiful almost as the sen- orita, who would be very proud indeed if they could only pronounce the name of Sienkiewicz. It 1s generally believed that the Cubgn ladies smoke. The senorita contradicted this impres- sion with an expression of horror as she shrugged her shoulders. “In society the ladies in Cuba never smoke,” she said.’ Then, smiling gayly, she told me how she turned this impres- sion to her advantage. “I prought with me a hundred strong cigars,” she said, “for a friend here, and T told the authorities that they were, for me to smoke while I was in th and I did not have to pay any duty.’ “They believed you?' #Of course, I came from Cuba.” “And why did you come to New York?"” I asked. “To escape the fame of being a queen of beauty in Havana,” she said simply. “You did not care for the fame?” “The S| sh custom allows any one to speak to you in the street, and whenever 1 went out people would stop and speak to me, and I told mamma that I would like to go to some great.city where no- body knew me, where I should be free from that Spanish custom, and the first thing I see when I arrive on the steamer was a_reporter.” “To see the Queen of Beauty,” I said, “I am not a beauty, and I am not at ali the handsomest woman in Havana,” she sald, with a little deprecatory bow. “But you are by virtue of the public vote.” . “Yes; but I think I had many friends.” “Is a choice made from any class in Havana?”’ “No; it is only among the society wom- en. “Are there no beauties among the poorer class?’ I asked. “They dress so badly that it would be difficult to know if they were beautiful or not!" said the senorita, as she stroked the valuable ostrich feather in her new hat. “But every one may vote?"' “Yes, every ofte.” - “And every one may speak to the Queen of Beauiy when she is seen‘cn tre street?” “As for that, it is the ‘Spanish custom for mén to talk nonsense to pretty wom- en. That is why the Cuban girls of the good families do mot go out much.’ A Spanish woman would not think she was at all attractive if men did not talk non- sense to her when she was in public.” It was easy to trace the freedom of the serenader in this surviving custom of gen- eral adoration in Cuba, One always expects that an acknowl- edged beauty is going to do something— marry a nobleman, enter a convent, go on the stage, elope with a Hungarian musi- cian, anything conventionally sensational; but the Senorita Alfonsa Aldama is an @ristocrat and the mere thought of being Havana may have women more beauti- ful than the. Senorita. Alfonsa Aldama, but there are few ve her distin “Oh, ves: in Ouba we do not buy ciothes —we come to New York for that. *Afd y .do you wear a black gown senorita’s great-grandfather was one and her family is one of the grandest in Cuba. Her great-great-grandmother, she told v {g | an actress was a §buddering instant ot dlsmey. % / “You will never o on the stage?’ I who ha 6gid, brutally plain of speech. me, had bedn a famous stately Beauty,’for eve her inteliigence, her modesty of & “Oh! Never! Never! Never!" sald the not dark. but fair, with exquisite blue arrayed, a women of fashion, y ment and her amiability. Her fix th a far-aw upward glance eyes. gowned in quiet elegance. and movement suggest the grande ‘dame and she is young for her years—I mean in her simplicity of outlock for a “She always dressed magnificently and “I wear wore her things bedutifully,” said the: fond of b I prefer th senorita. said the senorita, which aygued that “‘Handsome dresres are necessary to was.a young woman of execellent ta great beauty?” I asked for informati with no garish impulse of adornment. to heaven that must haye made the angels flutter. It was a touch of the Spanish grandee in the senorita, who must be gracious from a place just a little above the ordinary ambitions of life, for the ite sometimes, but I am very ks = { i = GRAUSTARK Ll L L Ll L B et L G b 2