The Tipton advertiser. [volume] (Tipton, Cedar Co., Iowa) 1856-1962, 1857-10-17
Vol. 4-NO. fl,


"What shall we dor
Such was the exclamation Of man
who stood on the stage of a theatre, look
ing At the scenic representation, half fin
nhed.
Suddenly he resumed
at must be as much like an altar as
possible have it, the old church where
that picturesque whi,e-headed fellow held
forth yesterday"
"Shame," exclaimed young man
"the venerable minister spoke words that
probed me TO the heart, and though | am
An actor can respect age and good
ness"
"Oh. well, l rank them all long tongued
hypocrits," replied the artist, sneeringiy
posing his brush--''at any rate, be he
saint or sinner, his pulpit is the very
thing I'll go up and sketch it,
4 few minutes brought him to the ven
cradle eii6ce, for it was not very distant
from the theatre.
The old church stood back on the road,
covered with ivy and surrounded with
trees. 1t was a week day. but the ham,
mer resounded there--workmen were In
the belfry, mcnding the old stone tower.
But the stiffness was broken below
Opening the venerable doors, the young
man stood On the threshold.
He did not lift his hat but gazcd about
with careless look Of admiration.
The Stiffness was most impressive; the
sun came in, subdued By the deep set
windows with their stained dyes into a
melancholy but sweet lustre, both deep
ened and dimmed BY the thick circular
plates set round the wall at regular dis
tances, and the whole interior was filled
with dark, clear glow.
But the solemnity of the scene pro-
duced no corresponding feelings in the
artist. He glanced around, indeed under
the impulse of his naturally fine taste;
but he felt no yeneration; in fact he be-
gan to whistle, as he walked up the aisle.
To him that venerable edifce, thick with
holy associations, was only thing for
polite mockery.
ayes, a fine old altar" he soliloquized,
looking at it professionally, at will be
just the thing-just the thing
Throwing off his hat as he spoke, he
took his pencil and paper out and moved
forward to begin the work. The ligh;
made beautiful halo about his head,
vas a noble head--a glorious though
slightly sensual face; aud as he stood
there, his counten4uce beamlng with ex.
sltation Of genius, he seemed man In
spired.
The work grew rapidly beneath hi:
hands. Already, in imagination, he saw
it painted heard the 4pplauding shouts
Of the audience as the curtain drew up;
received the compliments Of the beautiful
chief actress for the perfect character Of
the illusion. He dashed in the shadow:
here, and brought the light out there
with increased spirit. Never had he
sketched, in his own opinion, so felicit
ously, or with such rapid ease.
There luced good copy" he said
when he had finished NOW if that old
white-haired saint would consent to b,
painted by a sinner, why -
lie never spoke agaiu An awful crasf
responded to his words-a stone loosenct
from the tower, mighty stone, eam,
crushing through the root-fcll upon hi!
unprotected head and buried him be
meath it.
1t was terrible spectacle
ale made sport Of sacred things-ane
here his body lies-where is his sour"
Il was the young actor who spoke. IL
looked upward To the disfgured ceiling
and then .hudderingly at his friend.
The crowd about him were awed; tn
white headed man Of God led him ava,
sobbing into his study.
The actor never returned to the stage
The old man is dead, and the actor ao'
breaches Gods word in the ancient pal
pit.