A Sleepy Story by Oscar Wilde - The Model Millionaire - Rest: Sleepy Bedtime Stories

Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:01):
Good evening and welcome to Rest, your sanctuary for peaceful
sleep and relaxation. Whether you're escaping daily stresses or seeking
a nightly companion, you're in the right place. My name
is Jessica, and I'll be your host this evening. Before

(00:27):
we begin, why don't you turn off your screens and
turn down your volume. Now that's done, let's unwind and
help you ease into a blessed rest. Tonight, we're going

(00:53):
to slow down and allow your body and mind to
unwind wherever you are, Whether you're already tucked into bed
or just beginning to settle, this time is just for you,

(01:15):
a moment of calm, a gentle pause. So take a
deep breath in and a long, soft breath out. Feel

(01:39):
the weight of your body, sink into the bed or
chair that's beneath you, and let everything that doesn't need
your attention right now drift gently away. Tonight's story is

(02:00):
a classic, a charming creation by Oscar Wilde called The
Model Millionaire. It's a story about kindness, surprising generosity, and
the unexpected ways good deeds can return to us. So

(02:24):
let your eyes grow heavy, let your breath find a
slow and easy rhythm. And allow this gentle story to
guide you into a peaceful sleep. Now let's begin to

(02:46):
Night's tale. Unless one is wealthy, there is no use
in being a charming fellow. Romance is the privilege of
the rich, not the profession of the unemployed. The poor

(03:09):
should be practical and prosaic. It is better to have
a permanent income than to be fascinating. These are the
great truths of modern life, which Huey Erskine never realized.
Poor Hughey intellectually, we must admit he was not of

(03:36):
much importance. He never said a brilliant or even an
ill natured thing in his life. But then he was
wonderfully good looking, with his crisp brown hair, his clear
cut profile, and his gray eyes. He was as popular

(04:03):
with men as he was with women, and he had
every accomplishment except that of making money. His father had
bequeathed him his cavalry sword and a History of the
Peninsula War in fifteen volumes. Hughey hung the first over

(04:29):
his looking glass, put the second on a shelf between
Rough's Guide and Bailey's Magazine, and lived on two hundred
a year that an old aunt allowed him. He had
tried everything, He had gone on the stock exchange for

(04:53):
six months, but what was a butterfly to do among
balls and n and bears. He had been a tea
merchant for a little longer, but had soon tired of
Picot and soushong. Then he tried selling dry sherry. That

(05:17):
did not answer. The sherry was a little too dry.
Ultimately he became nothing, a delightful, in effectual young man
with a perfect profile and no profession to make matters worse.

(05:41):
He was in love. The girl he loved was Laura Martin,
the daughter of a retired colonel who had lost his
temper and his digestion in India and had never found
either of them again. Laura adored him, and he was

(06:07):
ready to kiss her shoestrings. They were the handsomest couple
in London and had not a penny piece between them.
The colonel was very fond of Hughie, but would not
hear of any engagement. Come to me, my boy, when

(06:33):
you have got ten thousand pounds of your own, and
we will see about it, he used to say. And
Huey looked very glum in those days, and had to
go to Laura for consolation. One morning, as he was

(06:56):
on his way to Holland Park, where the MUDs lived,
he dropped in to see a great friend of his,
Alan Trevor. Trevor was a painter, indeed, few people escape
that nowadays, but he was also an artist, and artists

(07:22):
are rather rare. Personally, he was a strange, rough fellow,
with a freckled face and a red, ragged beard. However,
when he took up the brush he was a real master,

(07:44):
and his pictures were eagerly sought after. He had been
very much attracted by Hughie at first, it must be
acknowledged entirely on account of his personal charm. The only

(08:04):
people a painter should know, he used to say, are
people who are bet and beautiful, people who are an
artistic pleasure to look at and an intellectual repose to
talk to. Men who are dandies and women who are

(08:29):
darlings rule the world, at least they should do so. However,
after he got to know Huie better, he liked him
quite as much for his bright, buoyant spirits and his generous,

(08:49):
reckless nature, and had given him the permanent entree to
his studio. When Huey came in, he found Trevor putting
the finishing touches to a wonderful life size picture of
a beggar man. The beggar himself was standing on a

(09:14):
raised platform in a corner of the studio. He was
a wizened old man with a face like wrinkled parchment
and a most piteous expression. Over his shoulders was flung
a coarse brown cloak, all tears and tatters. His thick

(09:41):
boots were patched and cobbled, and with one hand he
leant on a rough stick, while with the other he
held out his battered hat for arms. What an amazing model,
whispered Hughie as he shook hands with his friend. An

(10:07):
amazing model, shouted Trevor at the top of his voice.
I should think so. Such beggars as he are not
to be met with every day. A trouvais moncher, a

(10:27):
living Velasquez. My stars, What an etching Rembrandt would have
made of him, poor old chap, said Hughie. How miserable
he looks. But I suppose to you painters, his face

(10:49):
is his fortune, certainly, replied Trevor. You don't want a
beggar to look happy, do you? How much does a
model get for sitting, asked Hughie, as he found himself
a comfortable seat on a divan. A shilling an hour,

(11:16):
and how much do you get for your picture? Allan Oh,
for this I get two thousand pounds guineas painters, poets
and physicians always get guineas well. I think the model

(11:42):
should have a percentage, cried Hughie, laughing they work quite
as hard as you do. Nonsense, nonsense, Why look at
the trouble of lay on the paint alone and standing

(12:03):
all day long at one's easel. It's all very well, Huie,
for you to talk, but I assure you that there
are moments when art almost attains to the dignity of
manual labor. But you mustn't chatter. I'm very busy. Have

(12:30):
a drink and keep quiet. After some time, the servant
came in and told Trevor that the FrameMaker wanted to
speak to him. Don't run away, Hue, he said, as
he went out. I will be back in a moment.

(12:56):
The old beggar man took advantage of Trevor's absence to
rest for a moment on a wooden bench that was
behind him. He looked so forlorn and wretched that Hughie
could not help pitying him, and felt in his pockets

(13:19):
to see what money he had. All he could find
was a sovereign and some coppers. Poor old fellow, he
thought to himself, he wants it more than I do,
but it means no handsome's for a fortnight. And he

(13:45):
walked across the studio and slipped the sovereign into the
beggar's hand. The old man started, and a faint smile
flitted across his withered lips. Thank you, sir, he said,

(14:05):
thank you. Then Trevor arrived and Hue took his leave,
blushing a little at what he had done. He spent
the day with Laura, got a charming scolding for his extravagance,

(14:26):
and had to walk home. That night, he strolled into
the Palette Club about eleven o'clock and found Trevor sitting
by himself in the smoking room, drinking hock and seltzer. Well, Allan,

(14:49):
did you get the picture finished? All right? He said,
finished and framed? My boy, answered Trevor, And by the
bye you have made a conquest. That old model you

(15:09):
saw is quite devoted to you. I had to tell
him all about you. Who you are, where you live,
what your income is, what prospects you have? My dear Allan,

(15:30):
cried Hughie. I shall probably find him waiting for me
when I go home. But of course you are only joking,
poor old wretch. I wish I could do something for him.
I think it is dreadful that anyone should be so miserable.

(15:56):
I have got heaps of old clothes at home. Do
you think he would care for any of them? Why?
His rags were falling to bits, but he looks splendid
in them, said Trevor. I wouldn't paint him in a

(16:17):
frock coat for anything. What you call rags, I call romance.
What seems poverty to you is picturesqueness to me. However,
I'll tell him of your offer, Allen said, Hughey, Seriously,

(16:44):
you painters are a heartless lot. An artist's heart is
his head, replied Trevor. And besides, our business is to
realize the world as we see it, not to reform
it as we know it, as schaccar Sommitier. And now

(17:11):
tell me how Laura is. The old model was quite
interested in her. You don't mean to say you talk
to him about her, said Hughie, certainly I did. He
knows all about the relentless Colonel, the lovely Laura, and

(17:36):
the ten thousand pounds You told that old beggar all
my private affairs, cried Hughie, looking very red and angry.
My dear boy, said Trevor, smiling. That old beggar, as

(18:00):
you call him, is one of the richest men in Europe.
He could buy all London tomorrow without overdrawing his account.
He has a house in every capital and can prevent

(18:20):
Russia going to war when he chooses. What on earth
do you mean, exclaimed Hughie. What I say, said Trevor.
The old man you saw today in the studio was

(18:41):
Baron Hausberg. He is a great friend of mine, buys
all my pictures and that sort of thing, and gave
me a commission a month ago to paint him as
a beggar. La fonte Sie done millionaire. And I must

(19:05):
say he made a magnificent figure in his rags, or
perhaps I should say in my rags they are an
old suit I got in Spain. Baron Housberg, cried Hughie.
Good heavens I gave him a sovereign and he sank

(19:32):
into an armchair. The picture of Dismay gave him a sovereign,
shouted Trevor, and he burst into a roar of laughter.
My dear boy, you'll never see it again. Sona fairs

(19:54):
sei la jent desout. I think you might have told
me allan, said hugh sulkily, and not have let me
make such a fool of myself. Well, to begin with, Hughie,

(20:15):
said Trevor, it never entered my mind that you went
about distributing arms in that reckless way. I can understand
your kissing a pretty model, but your giving a sovereign
to an ugly one, by jove. No. Besides the fact

(20:41):
is that I really was not at home to day
to anyone, and when you came in, I didn't know
where the Houseburg would like his name mentioned. You know,
he wasn't in full dress. What a duffer he must

(21:03):
think me, said Hughie, Not at all. He was in
the highest spirits after you left, kept chuckling to himself
and rubbing his old, wrinkled hands together. I couldn't make

(21:25):
out why he was so interested to know all about you,
But I see it all now. He'll invest your sovereign
for you Hughie, pay you the interest every six months
and have a capital story to tell after dinner. I

(21:50):
am so unlucky, growled Hue. The best thing I can
do is to go to bed, and my dear Allan,
you mustn't tell anyone. I shouldn't dare show my face

(22:10):
in the row. Nonsense. It reflects the highest credit on
your philanthropic spirit, Huie, and don't run away. Have another
drink and you can talk about Laura as much as

(22:31):
you like. However, Hue wouldn't stop, but walked home, feeling
very unhappy and leaving Alan Trevor in fits of laughter.
The next morning, as he was at breakfast, the servant

(22:55):
brought him up a card on which was written Monsieur
Gustave nor dad de la part de monsieur le baron Hausberg.
I suppose he has come for an apology, said Huie
to himself, and he told the servant to show the

(23:20):
visitor up. An old gentleman with gold spectacles and gray
hair came into the room and said, in a slight
French accent, have ei the honor of addressing Monsieur Askin

(23:42):
Huie bowed, I have come from Baron Hausberg. He continued
the Baron. I beg, sir, that you will offer him
my sincerest apologies, stammered Hughey. The Baron said, the old gentleman,

(24:06):
with a smile, has commissioned me to bring you this letter,
and he extended a sealed envelope. On the outside was
written a wedding present to Hugh Urskin and Laura Merton

(24:27):
from an old beggar, and inside was a check for
ten thousand pounds When they were married, Alan Trevor was
the best man, and the baron made a speech at

(24:48):
the wedding breakfast. Millionaire models remarked, allan are rare enough,
but by Jove, model millionaires are rare still

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A Sleepy Story by Oscar Wilde - The Model Millionaire

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