Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1860-12-21


examined, and then heaved deep sigh.
"Please, sir" she said, timidly, at last
"will you give me my picture when you
have painted it?"
NO" interposed the other young man,
"but We will give you dollar"
She turned on the speaker, let 90 the
hand she had been holding, and drew her.
self up with sudden haughtniess.
81 don't want your dollar"' she said
with proud delicacy.
She was turning to escape, when the ar
tist, recovering her hand, said, soothingly
"Never mind him, my dear, | will paint
two pictures, and give you one. Come
will that do ~
Reassured, the child took the position
indicated to her, and Clarence Harvard
for that was the young artists name, be.
gan rapidly painting. Before noon, two
hasty sketches in oil were finished.
There" he said, drawing long breath
'you have been as quiet as mouse, and
I'm thousand times obliged to you.-
Take that home," and he gave her the
sketch, land maybe, some of these days
you'll think of him who gave it to you"
THAT will, all my life long" artlessly
said the child, gazing rapturously on hel
new possession, with an enthusiasm partly
of the artist soul within her, and partly
the result of a child's pride in what is it:
own special property.
80, yes !" interposcd the other youth,
you'll promise to be his wife, some day
won't you, Miss Cobwebs?"
The child's eyes flashed as she turned
on the speaker. Her instinct, from tn,
first, had made her dislike this sneerine
man. She stamped her pretty foot, ant
rctortcd, .aucily,
Il, Il never be yours, at any rate, yo,
old snapping-turtle" and, as if cxpectn!
, to have her ears boxed, if caught, sh,
dartcd away, disappearing, rapidly, dowr
the path whence she had come
Clarence Harvard broke into merry
laugh, in which, after moment of anger
his companion joined him.
You deserved it, richly said Clar
ence. at is capital nickname, too
shall call you nothing else, after this, tina,
Snapping-turtle.'
Hang the jade was the reply. "Ont
wouldn't think she was so smart. Bu
what shrew she'll make, | pity tn,
elod-hopper she marries; she'd hcnpecI
him out of all peace, and send him to al
early grave"
Nothing more was said, for at that mo
ment dinner horn sounded, and the youn:
men rose to return to the roadside inn
where they had stopped the night before
Their time was limited, and that evening
knapsack on back, they were miles ava,
from the scene of the morning. A wee!
later, they were both home in the city
Clarence hard at work, pcrfecting hmsel
in art, and his companion delying at Cox
and Blackstone.
Years passed Clarence had risen t,
be an artist of eminence. His picture
were the fashion; he was the fashion him
self. Occasionally, :sas he turned over hi
older sketches, he would come upon ''Cob
webs" as he was accustomed, laughingly
to call the sketch of the child, and then
for moment, he would wonder what hat
become Of the original; but except oil
these rare occasions, he never even though
of her.
Not so with the child herself Nelli
Bray was poor orphan, the daughter o
a dccayed gentleman, who, after her faith
er's death, had been adopted by matern
al uncle, living on wild upland farm
among the Alleghanies> Her childhood
from her earliest recollection. had beer
spent amid the drudgery of farm. Thi
rude bat free life had given her the sprin
~ step and ruddy cheek which had attract
ed the young artists attention but it ha'
failed to satisfy the higher aspirations o
her nature, aspirations which had beel
born in her blood, and which came of gen
erations of aatccedcnt culture. The frs
occasion on which these higher impulse
had found congenial food was when she hat
met the young artist She carried he
sketch home, and would never part witt
it. His refined, intellectual face haunteC
all her day-dreams. From that hour
new element entered into her life she be
came conscious that there were other peo
Pile, beside the dull plodding ones witt
whom her life had been cast ; she aspire'
to rise to the level of such !; all her leisur
hours were spent in studying gradual,
through her influence, her uncle's house
hold grew more refined, and finally, he
uncle himself became ambitions for Nell,
and as he had no children, consented, a
his wife's entreaty, to send the young cir
to a firstclass boarding-school.
At eighteen the bare-footed rustic, whom
the young artist had sketched, had dawne'
into Il beautiful and accomplished woman
who, after having carried off the prizes a
school, was the belle of the county tow
near which her uncles possessions lay
For, meantime, her uncle had been grow
ing rich, like most prudent farmers, partl.
from the rise in the value of his lands, an,
partly from the judicious investment Q
his savings.
But in spite of her many suitors, Nell,
had never yet seen face that appeared t
her half so handsome as the manly one o
the young artist, whose kind, gentle word
and manner, eight years before, had live
in her memory ever since. Often. after
brilliant company, where she had beer
queen of the evening, she found hcrsel
wondering, in her chamber, if she shoul'
ever see that face again.
"Are YOU going to the ball next week