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. ! Pages 21 —_————— e i THE 10 DE taKen irw the Library.**** SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY, JANUARY 21 CARNEGIE'S DAUGHTER DEVOTED TO HER ¥#ER S the | be r the e well- Mar- cook | mistress. iting race of shy little mistre: epacious sta deed this s t and Margaret o members of the ehold combined. For the ele gives such a touc of mol s typical Scotch Cas- tie, is ve in demand. When Merg her cat have tired each other out nd repose in the slum- HER LAMB AND PONY. which give the helress he best air and sun- se are a pet lamb and two pets nd pony. The former b llke Mary's. Mar- es not like tiny aml- when she days s, singing dolls, ne of them were it 15 on record elephant and her her and then she beast to Central Her cat is the big- e Persian species, and her »f the Shetland breed. er big lamb romp to- rgest ¢ e green sward around . It is a picture of pretty rural simplicity to see negle with her tiny arms the great lamb's neck. Racing | bushy | beautifully rounded breast of the ring- | | of Plerpont Morgan, has only just died, | Gove with the curves formed by the | driven snow. | The late John Ruskin wroto that | | her doves droop or when the pigeons | give rs with the lamb on fine days place of indoor dashes with when the weather is not so roegie rides well. The indi- e that she will be a Diana. 3 onian astride for this fair buntress She sits her pony aft- er the fashion of the pluck- jest fox-hunting ladies of -BEng- land The late Cardinal Man- ping used to say an English gentleman ghould be able to read Horace and ride efter hounds. On a similar principle, en English or a Scotch or an American lady should be able to speak French end ride ecross country. Margaret Car- negie will be able to do both. FINE SETTER AND PIGEONS. Miss Cernegle has the prettiest setter t no An [ 4 |and in spite of her inherited energy, | | gentle | | | DAUGHTER OF THE TER WITH ONE OF PETS. IRON HER MANY | in all Scotland. Its big brown mourn- | ful eyes look out upon her with limit- | less affection. This dog Is her faithful { companion in her walks and in her| rides. The girl Ilikes this beau- tiful animal with the glossy hair and tail. Her liking is not mis- placed. Her confidence in man’s faith- ful companion has not been abused. Miss Carnegie has the feminine in- stinct for the feathered tribe. She | loves pigeons. Their billing and cooing | take her fancy. The curve of their | breasts is a thing of beauty. Little Margaret Is known to have shown her artistic temperament by comparing the | there is nothing so beautiful in nature | as these curves. When the wings of | any other indication of illness, Miss Carnegie at once turns nurse. It | is fitting that the daughter of the phil- | anthropist, who has already given away | $180,000,000, should be a lover of ani- mals. Her humane spirit Is inherited and one ig not surprised to learn that, young as she is, Miss Carnegie has her pet charities. | A rooster likewise numbers among s girl's pets and the rooster ks as though it is capable of going ; nto the cockpit and of coming out victoriously. Little girls like rabbits. They hate | the quills of the fretful porcupine, but | the soft fur of the rabbit soothes | them. Miss Carnegie is no exception she is as feminine as she can be. The | touch of the silken rabbit pleases her. Her bunnles are the most | tenderly cared for in the whole world. | As peacemaker among her pets, Miss Carnegile is peerless. Her dog lives in peace with her rabbits and her Per- sian cat will not incur her displeasure | by making war on her pigeons. ENJOYS RUSSIAN GAME: Margaret does not realize that she is probably the wealthiest heliress in the world. The manner in which she is brought up is the very soul of gentle, womanly simplicity, and this in spite of most luxurious surroundings. Though she sits-at the dinner-table where princes and dukes and lords spiritual and temporal, and blue-blood- ed and blue-stockinged ladies are pres- ent, no undue Or even noticeable atten- tion is pald to her. When little Margaret gets to her amusements, then there is another story to tell. She can play “puff bil- liards” successfully against big, black- bearded men. The game seems to be a favorite one at S8kibo, partly because it is quite exhilarating and partly be- cause no long and laborious practioe is needed to play it. At all events, the game strengthens Margaret's wrists, and indeed is a good one for a humid climate where children are compelled to stay within doors. Nor is the game of puff bililards Miss Margaret's only physical accomplish- ment. The little heiress is a perfect water nymph. The marvelous “marble bathing basin in the grounds of Skibo | daughter will | suffering peasant families | therefore, Great Joy in Large Persian Cat,’a Lamb, a Shetland Setter, Rabbits and Pigeons at Skibo Castle. = - s done its work. Here in this heated to 4 comfortable perature, splashes siven-like, - €hould she continue her swimming exercises, the day is not far distant when Mr. Carnegie's own be one of her father's hero prizes. Castle & it-se: la ¢ little Margaret plays much at Russ games. ere were sent to { her by the president of the Slavonic Soclety of Moscow after he had paid a visit to Skibo Castle. It seems that the toys are made by Russian pe: nts and sold by a benevolent soc for ty the benefit of the poor, so that Mar- | garet by her encouragement of Russian games comes to the assistance Mrs. Carnegie does not wish to have anything written about her daughter, however flattering it may be. Mr. Car- negie, on the other hand, =a Throw the Carnegie household wide apen. I have no skeleton in my closet. If the people can learn anything useful from a knowledge of my household, they are welcome to it.” “SWEET SEVENTEEN” DIES AT AGE OF NINETY-SEVEN Woman Who Posed for Famous Por- trait Passes Away in Great Britain. LONDON, Jan. 20.—Rosamund, Lady Barrow, the original of Sir Thomas Lawrence’s most famous portrait, “Sweet Seventeen,” now in possession aged 97, at Molesey, near London, where she was interviewed last summer by the correspondent. Lady Barrow was a noted early Victorfdn beauty, a fos- | ter-daughter of John Wilson Croker, and her portralt was a feature of the Royal Academy exhibition of 1825, For three-quarters of a century the world has barely known her name, That vital tbuch on the canvas which gave her loveliness to the gaze of ad- miring thousands, which has made it through the years a classic, though neither time nor changing fashion could rob its ineffable charni, made the woman behind that exquisite face a nun. The adulation. showered upon her, the homage of King Willlam 1V, who hailed her as “the English beauty” with the kingly kiss which custom per- mitted, and that second kiss which was the tribute of the man, affrighted the girl, who had hardly left childhood be- hind. Bhe gave up society and devoted herself to good works. Nony Croker was the daughter of ‘Willlam- Fennell, at one time Consul General of Brazil. She was born in Ire- land, and was the twenty-first child of parents whose responsibilities were far too great for thelr income. When, Mrs. Croker, the childless sister of Mrs. Fennell, offered to adopt this last baby, the little Nony was promptly transferred. Her father was the Croker of literary and political fame who was roundly at- tacked by Macaulay for his edition of Boswell’s Johnson. A The little girl was strictly reared, though given every accomplishment, and at 11 already gave promise of the splendid beauty which afterward came to such fruition. For two years after the exhibi- tion of the Lawrence portrait the girl never looked in the glass, fearing van- ity might blind her to spiritual things. Five years later, at the age of 28, she was married to Sir George Barrow, a distinguished Colonlal Governor, an bore him eight children. Lady Barrow was the friend and assoclate of the great people of the day, among them the Duke of Welling- ton, but her heart was in her religious work. She bullt a church at West Ken- sington fo seat 800 people, built 4 hos- pital at Molesey-on-Thames, and moyed out of her great manor house to a sim- ple villa that the rental might be ap- plied to her charities. She was happy in the knowledge that she had reclaimed many drunkards. nd swims | of the | foster- | OBLEMAN LOSES BRIOE AND" MONEY | i Controller% Reid’s | Breaks With ! | Fiances. | 'Will Not Wed Sister]| of the Duke of | Marlborough, i watale o Arrangements Had Been Made | | to Frovide Taem with an income, SHMESRD ™ 2 cial Cabie to The Call. LONDON, 0.—Not was surprised by the o Jan. every one cial announce- { | | ment that the marriage between the | American Embassador’s ‘“controller of | the household,” the Hon. William | | Walsh, and Lady Norah Spencer | Churchill, sister of the Duke of Marl- borough, will not take place. 1t has been known for some time among their friends—who, after the fashion of friends, did not keep the knowledge to themselves—that things | were not running smoothly betwces tne | couple. La July was the date fArst| assigned for the marriage, but it has | been postponed several times since | then The first occurred over the of g money enough to housckeeping and keep it up. | third son of Lord Ormath- | ose estates are lLeavily incum- | bered, the Hon. Iir. Waish's allowance is | a small one. To tide over the difficuity Mr. and Mrs. Whitelaw Reid oftered to let them occupy rent free a handsome | suite of apartments in Dorchester | House, the spacious marble palace | which the Embassador occupies as a | town residence. 'Io help farther solve | the financial problem, the Duchess of | Mariborough promised (o settle $5000 a year on her_ sister-inslaw—Lady Noratf, the soungdr stster @t the Duke-| | —after the marriage: | | Then fresh troubles arose. Lady { Norah became dissatizsfied® with . her [ flance’s position. Controller of the | household” ‘sounds imposing, but the | billet iz merely that of a glorified { chief lackey. It was understood that the | Hon. Mr. Walsh intended to avail him- | self of the abundant le which the | ure | job allowed him to hustle for some- | thing better. But after he was snuglyl enecorced in Dorchester House, he did not hustle enough to hurt himself. Lady Norah's remenstrances did not have the effect of stimulating his am- bition. Nelther of them is particularly an- gelic in the matter of temper, and that became most apparent when they played bridge together. QUARREL OVER BRIDGE. It was bridge that led to the final -h between them. Fate made them partners at a country house where they were spending the Christmas week. She is the better player of the two and when he made a_yrong “lead,” she said something that was not at all flattering to his intelligence. He re- torted with an observation to the effect that amiability was not one of her strong points. A scene followed which ended by Lady Norah flinging down her cards—some stories have it that she flung them in her flance's face—and leaving the table, made for the door. The Hon. Mr. Walsh Intercepted her exit and begged her to return, and promised that’ he would be good, and all that, but she indignantly waived him aside. “All is at an end between us," she exclaimed. “As you wish,” he answered. It will not be long, according to gos- sip, before the Hon. Mr. Walsh consoles himself with a charming American widow. If he should marry her he will be under no further necessity of work- ing for a living. Meanwhile Lady Norah is a guest at a big house party given by the Duke of Abercorn and having a good time. SQUANDERS RICHES ON DOG. { It is usual here to regard American women as chiefly responsible for intro- ducing the fashion of squand¥ring su- . perfluous wealth on canine pets. The | Christmas present which Lady Wil- loughby de Eresby—formerly Miss Breese of New York, and a bride of only a few weeks ago—selected for her mother, Mrs. Higgins, who resides in London, lends some color to this { view. ‘ It is a complete outfit for Mrs. Hig- ging’ little spitz dog, and it would be dificult to concelve of anything better | calculated to make any dog with an atom of self-respect completely miser- able. Her ladyship purchased it in Paris and paid $1000 for it. In it are included several fur coats and also silk mackintoshes. There is one of } sable tail lined with white satin, which has Mre. Higgins' initials in one cor- ner, while in another is the dog’s. There Is a tiny pocket for a handker- chief and another for the pampered beast’s cardcase, which is of gold with i his name in turquoise. For still smarter occasions there i a coat of ermine with a lining of tur- quoise, satin bound, with golden cord, | ]'and on this is embroidered in brilllants { the dog’s initial. o In all likelihood Mrs. Higgins' dog is the only one which possesses a motor car—a wonderful little article, perfect in every detail. It 1s Dainted white and gold, and is lined with blue leather. For motoring the dog has a number of special garments, notably a Russfan colt skin coat and fur boats. Goggles of green glass also are supplied. There is a woman of considerable social prominence here who has en- gaged a special chef to prepare her dogs’ meals. For each day they have a separate menu which is inscribed on a hand painted menu card. They dine off gold plates, with the finest cambric napkins tied around their necks. br WIFE OF A SCULPTOR IS HIS SERVANT. Peculiar Domestic Arrange- ment in Rodin Home. Great Artist Gives His Time to His Work in His Studio Near Paris. Special Cable LONDON, Jan. 20.—Rodin, probably the most famous of. living sculptors, | is much talked about in Paris social | circles just now, not so much on ac- | count of any new achicvement in the world of art, but for the eccentricities | of his home life. Auguste Rodin at Lkome and the same man in his studio are quite different personalities. Up to within the last month or two, | very little indeed has been kncwn of the sculptor’'s home life. The publie, and even his intimate friends have known Rodin principally at the studios in Paris placed at his disposal by the French Government. His home life has been kept a thing separate and apart. Through the Influence of an intimate friend of the sculptor, however, the writer was recently privileged to visit M. Redin at his own home. He lives/ just on the outskirts of the littie v lage of Meudon, about half an hour's ride from Paris. His house, an unpre- to The Call vet,-it is quite evident that the very hest of understandings exists between the artist and his wife. Madame Rodin rises every morning about 5:30 and prepares her husband's coffee—for Rodin is a very early riser, ! never beginning his daily work later than 6 o’clock. He dons a huge dress- ing gown, made of flannel, very thick in texture, which madame has pre- viously warmed for him. The seulptor generally begins work even while dressing, for he not Infrequently car- ries to his room the previous night some piece of modeling In which he may be interested. As soon as he is dressed, his breakfast is placed on the table—he takes the usual French coffee and roll at this meal—and, even while disposing of this simple repast, he works at his modeling. He has usually on-the table before him a cast of what he wishes to work at—perhaps a re- duced model of some antique pigce of o+ tentious little red br the top of a high westerly direction, view of the surrounding countr Immediately adjoining the home of Rodin, and dwarfing it into insignifi- cance, Is his big new studio. For many years, before the studio came into ex- istence, the famous sculptor did 1 great deal of work at his Meudon home. He received no visitors; paidno calls; but worked incessantly—his sole compan- ion being his wife. Recently, M. Rodin has broken through the splendid isolation that. has surrounded his home, and invited sev- eral friends to partake of his hospital- ity. They and one or two of them were introduced to her. This was considered a rare exception to the rule hitherto pur»uedl by the artist. It is not jealousy on Rodin's part— only indifference. His wife seems to perform the function of nursing him and keeping his health Tn order. MISTAKEN FOR SERVANT. The manner in which Madam« Rodin came under the notice of the friends of the sculptor was somewhat remark- able. For many years, Madame Rodin had been observed about the household, cooking the housework; for even now the great sculptor employs no servant in his home. Madame Rodin seemed no dif- ferent from the ordinary old woman whom one sees attached to most French households. There is always a “Marie,” or a “Hortense'—usually aged—in ev- ery family. One day, when some friends were dining with Rodin, one of them said to him in confildence: “Monsieur, why don’t you get rid of that terrible old woman who prowls about the place. What you need is a fresh young house- keeper, who would make your life worth llving.” Rodin seemed to enjoy the joke im- mensely, and often told afterward how discomfited his friend looked when the sculptor explained that the terrible old woman was none other than Madame Rodin herself. And thus Madame Rodin became known as the artist's wife, but she was never introduced as such; never took part in any of the entertalnments; al- ways waited on the table; did the cook- ing, and the housework; all as a mat- ter of course. In Madame Rodin's estimation there is no other person in the world but her husband. His wants, his comforts, make up her life. She seems to know in a vague sort of way that in recent years he has acquired much fame, and even met Madame Rudln.| meals and doing all the | that his personal wealth has augment- ed in a way that enables him to.build studios and supply his own home. with all he can wish for. But it is evident she does not realize for a moment that she might be called upon at any time to play the part of a great artist's wife, MODELS WHILE HE EATS. Some very curious stories are In cir- culation concerning the manner of life lived by the Rodins. Days and days g0 by during which neither speaks a word to the other, saving to mention what is wanted for the dinner. And | burst into uproarious laughter, which L -+ | FAMOUS FRENCH _ SCULPTOR WHOSE LOVE FOR ART,6 IS GREATER THAN FOR WIFE. o+ + sculpture—and while drinking his cof- fee and munching his roll, Rodin works oblivious of the surrounding world. | Madame attends upon him, standing a | few feet away from his chair, duti-| fully fills his cup, or replenishes his | plate; and never a word is spoken be- tween the couple. Before his new studio was put up, it was Rodin's custom to retire to a big room on the ground floor of his house, and work there until 11 o'clock; when he had the regular breakfast which Frenchmen enjoy at this houra At this meal, the same reticence was observed as at the early meal, the sculptor placing before him on the table some plece of modeling or a book and working while at his repast. STORY OF BURNT GOOSE. The only occasion on which Madame Rodin has made her presence felt was | at a dinner recently given by Rodin to a few select artistic and journalistic friends. They came out to Meudon, in- vited to a dinner supposed to take place at 6 in the evening. but which was not placed on the table until 7. And them it was found that a goose—the princi- pal part of the repast—was burnt. Rodin told Madame Rodin that the goose was burnt. Thereupon, she flew into a towering rage, not with her hus- band, but with herself; the unfortunate goose was snatched bodily from the table, and Madame Rodin went shriek- ing into the kitchen literally tearing her hair. Rodin sat for a moment In grave silence, and looked at the faces of his dismayed guests. Then he was so irresistible that every one else joined in. After this incident, the din- ner passed off “without accident,” as Rodin afterward sald, and every one had a good time, for Rodin is a most entertaining talker, and his ideas are | is justifiable in art. s0 original that it 1s always a treat to listen to him. HAS FINE PICTURE GALLERY. Ten minutes spent in the Rodin home is sufficient to demonstrate that the place is the abode of an artist oblivious vy of everything except his work. Dis- order seems the order of the day. so §@ speak. Rodin boasts of a fine picturs gallery. This is just opposite the i ing-room. It is really a big lumbe room. There is a set of parlor farnd- ture in it; a four-poster bed, and a lgt of other “household stuff.” Most of the paintings are not even hung. They rest on the floor with their faces turned toward the wall Some of these paintings are by the very finest French masters—Carriere, Bouguereau and oth- ers—who have, from time to time, pre- sented specimens of their best work to M. Rodin. Even a paintipg by John & Sargent, of Rodin himself, hangs In an obseure corner Here and there about the room Rodin has glass cases containing Iittle art treasures of his own. None of these has intrinsic value, but they are things chosen by Rodin himself, and money would not buy them. Among other things is a little wooden model of a pigeon. It was brought from Egypt by a friend. To the outsider, it seems to be worth about 30 cents—if that much. But Rodin goes into ecstacies over it. “Just look.” he exclatmed; “at thoss wonderful lines” (to the ordinary ob- server these lines seem to be very stralght, and making Inartistic angles, but Rodin sees things differently). “how much they express In a few simple strokes. What a wonderful people = those Egyptians were HIS “DOORWAY OF HELL.” Rodin believes in' representing through art any subject found in na- ture—no matter how bestial or repus- nant to taste it may be. Questioned on this point, he said: “Nature is my excuse. Whatever Na- ture shows me, that I try to_exhibit in plaster. Whatever you see in Nature My ‘Doorway of Hell’ has been denounced for the many horrible figures and disgusting emo- tions portrayed—but. I answer, if men do these things: here, surely we'may represent them in hell.” This famous “Deorway of Hell" stands as a central object In Rodin's new studio. It is an enormous piece of sculpture on which the artist has been working for, years. Surrounding the grewsome portal are hundreds of fig- ures in all imaginable postures—men and women, flends and mortals. A de- scription of these figures would not ba permitted to go through the malls. Rodin js proud of this work, aad the more it is denounced the better he seems to like it. H His immense studio, which is a six~ sided building of his own design, con sists of one large room, with overh&n.l ing side galleries, arranged like a mu- seum. In glass cases throughout thi bullding are hundreds, or rather the sands, of little figures of every descri tion. Some of these littie casts are n more than a few inches square. whi others are colossal. Rodin deligh in making tiny models of men women, placing them in a case togeth: and then shaking the case up. TI assume all sorts of queer postures, Rodin leaves them this way. They give him ideas for groups, he saym d4