The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1872-03-22
THE RECORD OF A SILENT MAN,
BY MARIA r. Oakley.

ed for my never being quite old enough
for the world.
| was alwaysat a disadvantage, though
| am not stupid man. My wife says
am not, and she surely should know,
who sees so much of me.
Ny very talents seemed always in the
way. My perception OF things made
me always seem stupider than | was;
for | was overpowered and made silent
by all | felt. ! was forever misunder-
stood in those desolate days when | was
a bachelor and alone. Now Molly ex-
plains me, and everybody understands
her.
But how | anticipate am confus-
ing you by speaking of things that came
after, before telling you what came first.
Molly wouldn't do so.
Well, will tell you what came first.
First came a narrow, dirty street, and a
doorway with little black signs at the
side of it, setting forth in gold letters
the various names of the occupants of
the various floors of the house and their
various occupations. Ny name was
there. Then came four long flights of
dirty stairs and then came a door with
a lltle black sign on it, and on the sign
some gold letters that spelled "Joseph
Burrows. Artist
Joseph Burrows is my name. The
little sign proclaimed ne an artist. |
never could get quite used to il, and
wanted TO scratch over the word artist,
art student. But that wouldn't have
looked as well, you know. And people
used to call me what the sign unblush.
ingly proclaimed.
Next came the studio inside the door,
where all sorts of odds and ends, dra-
perry. and other bric-a.brac hung about
the room in the midst Of easels and
sketches.
A huge, full,length portrait stood
half-fnished on one easel, and a little
painting Of wild roses on another by its
side.
One morning q gentleman came into
my studio, and gave me the order to
paint the great big portrait of himself
| had often painted full-length figure
for a fancy picture, but never a portrait.
You see, portrait was different, because
the original had to be pleased. ! was
staggered at the thought. | had found
it quite hard enough to please man
with portrait of his own face, but TO
attempt to please him with portrait Of
his own legs Really, it was too much.
| couldn't, wouldn't paint it Why
didn't | say 20 then? There ! stood
quite silent, with the gentleman con
fronting me. He was very tall. What
a long canvas he would take Ny heart
sank into my boots.
or Nrapt l,1l,- ,,n.,v 1,tl t5,
tleman. | shook my head. " Begin
next week then Y Ny breath left me.
Very well, then, next week. Monday
suit your Monday, at tenn
Monday, said as one in a dream.
II took check out of his pocket book,
sat down at my secretary Tan old carved
one, | had bought at curiosity hop),
and filled up the check, saying. Il sup
pose you'd rather / d begin so, and lett
me standing with his check in my hand,
as he slammed my studio door and ran
down stairs.
had a wild idea Of rushing after him
and stopping him, giving him back his
check, and telling him that | couldn't
paint his picture. 1t was Of no use he
had gone. / didn't even know his adj
4
pected, talked fast, and slammed my
door; spolt my days work, disturbed
nv mood, and bound me over to his
will by this check | held in my hand
and, worst OF all, he probably imagined
he had done me a favor.
Why! / ought TO be glad. Here was
FIVE hundred dollars, to be had by walk
ing into a bank and showing this scrap
of paper. But | wasn't glad. ! wanted
TO paint my wild roses for a present, if
/ could make up my mind to give it to
my distant cousin Molly, the delight Of
my heart, my constant dream only |
had never told her so.
| put the check away in drawer Of
the secretary, and went out to lunch.
Ii was not until | was going home at
dusk that / made up my mind to 60
into the color mans, to order my huge
canvas. / was aware that | looked
apologize, and gave the order in a very
subdued tone: Six feet six by three
feet SIX
Are you going to paint mantel.
piece, Mr. Burrows p said the color
man; and | knew he was laughing in
his sleeve.
The next morning was at work on
my wild-roses, forgetting my coming
troubles, when there came a rap on the
door--a most impertinent, obvious, dis.
composing knock.
/ knew it was the canvas, and went
to let it in, glancing furtively up and
down the entry, TO see if any other
studio.door was open for the inmate to
look out and say: "Why what's all
that canvas going to do with Burrows
Again my morning was spoilt. |
couldn't work on my roses with that
great thing in the room. Iput it in my
closet, but it proved to be only skele-
ton there. | took it out and again and
set it on an easel. 1t was a whole foot
taller than myself. How ridiculous !
Should paint on a step.ladder? What
business had men TO be six feet or, if
they were, why did they come to me to
have their portraits painted ! sat