Just North of Bliss Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Alice Duncan
love to have portraits taken
of my children, but. . .”
Mr. Richmond took over from there. “We’ve
just come from a concert conducted by Mr. John Philip Sousa, Mr.
Asher. It was a splendid concert. Then we took in the grand
inventions to be seen in the Machinery Hall.” He shook his head in
a gesture meant, Win imagined, to convey Mr. Richmond’s sense of
awe and admiration. “The American genius is well represented there,
let me tell you.”
“Indeed, it is,” Win concurred. “I’ve taken
many photographs of the exhibits in the Machinery Hall. You’ve
probably seen them in newspapers here and there.” Not to mention
periodicals, fair brochures, posters, books, and publicity flyers.
Win was so proud of himself and his own
brand of American ingenuity.
“I’m certain we’ve seen them,” Mr. Richmond
assured him. “We’re from New York City, and there have been many
photographs reproduced in the Times.”
Win didn’t even try to suppress a cocky
grin. “Yes, indeedy. I’ve sold several photographs to the
Times.”
“We were about to have luncheon at the
Mexican Cantina,” Mr. Richmond said. “Why don’t you join us, Mr.
Asher? Perhaps we can discuss the matter of photographs of our
children over luncheon.”
“Sounds great,” said Win. “Let me just lock
up.”
They’d been walking in a desultory manner
toward his booth. Win dashed inside and gabbed the jacket he’d
taken off while he’d struggled with Mr. Wiggles, shrugged it on,
and locked his door. “The Columbian Guards keep a vigilant eye on
all of the booths in the Fair, but I don’t want to take chances
with my expensive camera equipment.”
“No, indeed,” concurred Mr. Richmond.
Mrs. Richmond set her daughter down on the
Midway and wiped her brow with a handkerchief pulled from her small
reticule. Miss Monroe, Win noticed, took Amalie’s hand as if she
wanted to make sure the child didn’t wander off. Personally, Win
didn’t imagine she had much to worry about in that regard. The
Richmond girl seemed complacent and obliging to him, and not at all
the type to get herself lost. The boy was another matter. In fact,
Garrett Richmond reminded Win of himself at that age, and he
decided it wouldn’t hurt to play up that angle.
With a wink, he said, “Want me to teach you
the rudiments of photography, Garrett?”
“Oh, yes, sir!” the boy cried. “Please!”
Win held out an arm, and Garrett obediently
hurried to his side. “If your mama and papa agree, I’ll be happy to
do that, Garrett. Photography is one of the marvels of our time.
Why, just imagine being able to capture images of real people and
real events for all time.”
“Yeah,” Garrett murmured in clear
wonderment. “Before cameras, I guess people had to draw stuff that
happened.”
Win chuckled. “I guess they did. And
people’s memories aren’t as accurate as cameras.”
“I suppose not.”
“If Sitting Bull had had had a camera at the
Little Big Horn, he could have taken a picture of Custer’s Last
Stand,” Amalie said brightly. “And then we’d really know what
happened instead of having to look at that picture the Indian
gentleman drew afterwards or watch it in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West.”
She added pensively, “I loved the Wild West. I wish we could see it
again.”
“Amalie,” muttered Miss Monroe in a shocked
voice. “Really.”
Although he didn’t want to engender Miss
Monroe’s enmity, since he figured he might need her good will if
his plan was to succeed, Win couldn’t help but send her a slightly
sour glance. “But she is right, Miss Monroe. You must admit
it.”
The look she gave him back pretty much told
him to make her admit it if he dared. Win decided that, while a
tussle with the pretty Miss Monroe might be fun if she possessed a
more friendly disposition, he’d be better off dropping the subject
of Custer and Sitting Bull.
Fortunately for them both, Mr. Richmond
intervened at that point. If Win was correct about
of my children, but. . .”
Mr. Richmond took over from there. “We’ve
just come from a concert conducted by Mr. John Philip Sousa, Mr.
Asher. It was a splendid concert. Then we took in the grand
inventions to be seen in the Machinery Hall.” He shook his head in
a gesture meant, Win imagined, to convey Mr. Richmond’s sense of
awe and admiration. “The American genius is well represented there,
let me tell you.”
“Indeed, it is,” Win concurred. “I’ve taken
many photographs of the exhibits in the Machinery Hall. You’ve
probably seen them in newspapers here and there.” Not to mention
periodicals, fair brochures, posters, books, and publicity flyers.
Win was so proud of himself and his own
brand of American ingenuity.
“I’m certain we’ve seen them,” Mr. Richmond
assured him. “We’re from New York City, and there have been many
photographs reproduced in the Times.”
Win didn’t even try to suppress a cocky
grin. “Yes, indeedy. I’ve sold several photographs to the
Times.”
“We were about to have luncheon at the
Mexican Cantina,” Mr. Richmond said. “Why don’t you join us, Mr.
Asher? Perhaps we can discuss the matter of photographs of our
children over luncheon.”
“Sounds great,” said Win. “Let me just lock
up.”
They’d been walking in a desultory manner
toward his booth. Win dashed inside and gabbed the jacket he’d
taken off while he’d struggled with Mr. Wiggles, shrugged it on,
and locked his door. “The Columbian Guards keep a vigilant eye on
all of the booths in the Fair, but I don’t want to take chances
with my expensive camera equipment.”
“No, indeed,” concurred Mr. Richmond.
Mrs. Richmond set her daughter down on the
Midway and wiped her brow with a handkerchief pulled from her small
reticule. Miss Monroe, Win noticed, took Amalie’s hand as if she
wanted to make sure the child didn’t wander off. Personally, Win
didn’t imagine she had much to worry about in that regard. The
Richmond girl seemed complacent and obliging to him, and not at all
the type to get herself lost. The boy was another matter. In fact,
Garrett Richmond reminded Win of himself at that age, and he
decided it wouldn’t hurt to play up that angle.
With a wink, he said, “Want me to teach you
the rudiments of photography, Garrett?”
“Oh, yes, sir!” the boy cried. “Please!”
Win held out an arm, and Garrett obediently
hurried to his side. “If your mama and papa agree, I’ll be happy to
do that, Garrett. Photography is one of the marvels of our time.
Why, just imagine being able to capture images of real people and
real events for all time.”
“Yeah,” Garrett murmured in clear
wonderment. “Before cameras, I guess people had to draw stuff that
happened.”
Win chuckled. “I guess they did. And
people’s memories aren’t as accurate as cameras.”
“I suppose not.”
“If Sitting Bull had had had a camera at the
Little Big Horn, he could have taken a picture of Custer’s Last
Stand,” Amalie said brightly. “And then we’d really know what
happened instead of having to look at that picture the Indian
gentleman drew afterwards or watch it in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West.”
She added pensively, “I loved the Wild West. I wish we could see it
again.”
“Amalie,” muttered Miss Monroe in a shocked
voice. “Really.”
Although he didn’t want to engender Miss
Monroe’s enmity, since he figured he might need her good will if
his plan was to succeed, Win couldn’t help but send her a slightly
sour glance. “But she is right, Miss Monroe. You must admit
it.”
The look she gave him back pretty much told
him to make her admit it if he dared. Win decided that, while a
tussle with the pretty Miss Monroe might be fun if she possessed a
more friendly disposition, he’d be better off dropping the subject
of Custer and Sitting Bull.
Fortunately for them both, Mr. Richmond
intervened at that point. If Win was correct about