The Cadiz sentinel. [volume] (Cadiz, Ohio) 184?-1851, 1850-04-17

an obIrci have long contemplated, rus
lou Will MOI object?
'Lnrd, sir, what is ttye want speak il on
quick. can't ye my work is wiling TO- me
don't you see? Dryou want the chld's lfun
teeth, oI her hau? I've sold her lair twic,
to.a barber. hui the ieelh'
'Yoa mistake me, excIaimed Msriin Ora,
sha'tdy, ff he was diseaslca wih lie c,ne
wnids OF the old h, dam I'm an artist,
would Ike 10 lake hcr likeness, will YOU per
nii.me 10 do SOP
'No; what would ynn do with il? Tht
gir'S about spolIcd nov, with perple'strIlns
! er hnw brauiful She is. To be suie. ih,
ch ii il well cnough' = this with sott Of bru
tai l,tde--' IN looks; but beauty dou' give II.
bread. and her good looks only spIrs her
,he's gellrH pronu and hateful suce people
h We Told her SO much about u--tlle lHlle
foolt
'lfhat is so. fear ii is not the wises
c, urse 10 let her play so much in the street
With other l(ttle folks sad Martin
This approach TO advice, aroused tie wo,
mans ire. 'Wbefe is she 10 he kept, I'd like
to know thai? A poor women like me. as
arRS her bread by The sweat Of her face, has
tulle time 10 be lnoklng about after the yOung
ones. People like me can't keep their chil
dren TO home like other folks, who have pen
ty of room, IN door mud out. So YOU see..
young man, your advance aint worthy mach
any how
'Ofcourse, madam, you know your own
business best; hni, seriously. you canCo'
mean TO reuse my earnest request. assure
You il will be the greatest favor to me, if you
viii suffer me to take the ehlld's picture. !
am W ing 10 pay you for The privilege.
Then il shall be done,' sad the woman,
Frightening up, 'how much will you offer?
Two d nrs.' answered the young man;
'and ! wi pay YOU mo'e al somo lntue day
hnt |, also, am poor
Po"r follow! he spoke the truthindeed, for
hi, two collars we're just halrthe contents Of
hs ii T del purse at 'ha' moment.
~ I'll, she may 90 forIha. Here, Alice,
you're gw ne to have Your face panted'-'le'
me brush yon up ltrie.'
No no, pray, madam, leave her to me,
| will take her to my studio as she is / would
not lave her appearance changed IN The Ieas
-thc drapery Of the CHI docs not need any
liberation; viii bring her 10 you again in an
hour
well, she'll be safe enough, ! s'pose; go
pu
'A-o Won going to paint my face, sira what
tor? viii it hurt me?' asked Alice Flynn, as
she, wih Martin, passed along the street hand
in hand.
Not your face, child, answered the attisf;
Pm going opainl face Ike yours, that IS
ALL
What to2'
'robang up in my room. and then, perhaps,
70 sell i, some day for great deal OF money
Sell me! sell my face Rand the Iit:le in
nocen laughed and wondered why any body
should want to buy face Ike hers.
Martin too busy with his own thonghts,
made no answer TO her many eXclamationsI
Of astonjshment and wnaderr Two s'eps all
a time, wth The gill in his arms, did the de-
lighted youth ascend The three steep and mar
row flights OF stairs which led 10 ire poor it,
lie attic room he digniied with the name,
style and ntle,' of studio.
A barren place il seemed 10 little Alice
Flynn, for such nice gentleman to live in
indeed, scarce a whit better than her own
poor home was il.
e Are you poor, tou2' she asked with child
ish confidence and most ugchildsh and
spoke.
'Yes, am poor; paint pictures for lV
ing, Alice. shall not gov rich in day, !
said The artist, and his words were uttered
with moi quite the usual, light hearted, happy
tone.
Probably my reader will soon, If ever, see
The original painting executed on that day i
which ever after remained date so memof>
able in the recollectons Of Martin Gray. Let
me, iherefo fore, here stale, that tue sunrise was
q portrait quite dssimilar to those we usually
see of young children.
Now lie quietly, Alice, for a moment,
said Martin. lie had placed her on the an
ceht lounge, The only reasonable piece off
furniture in the room. Now close your eyest
--ah? notso close, let them be half open, aS
though you were just waking up; now | will
nainl a picture Inc world shall wonder al!
Yes, also will make asuniisen
Quietly and moionless, as ihongh bereflI
Of life, the child lay and watched the artists
in him she forgot herself. con-
had none of that intense con-
sciousness OF expression SO often perceivable
in the portrait Of people who become immor-
Ialized aud perpeiAated ION canvass!
What a sight TO see! The lonely, desolaie
plnces where the impoverished childr8n Of
Genius. The painters, scupiors and poets,
have with patient, but almost hopeless toll,
wrought out their wonder works!
On eyes whose range Ct vision was cir
BY four contracted walls, have
looked on scenes ofrarer and richer beauty,
than travellers nmany climes have seen; and
voices husky, tuneless with want md grief
have breaibed, even when tortured with The
death'agony songs that the world has hushed
its mighty voice and its tumutous hearl, 10
hear; warriors have conquered on battle field
whose inspiration was the song that burst from
The dying son Of poverty, while pain and fe-
ver Frustrated him, who kept back by force
Of mind the advance Of death, until the strain
Of glory should be fully and perfectly con,
reved!
An hour passed, md not for one moment
had rhe hand Of the artist paused; il is e.
nough 10 say that even he was satisfied with
The progress he Ind made in those swirlS
winged sixty minutes.
Upon the easy coach Alice had fallen a.
deep, unpercoived by The young painter; he
Weakened her with some regret, but he lime
le had promised 10 keep her with him had
'asaed, and Martin had little inclination to