Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1873-01-16
UNDER THE BEAM.

to this day, at the age OF slXty-three, OF
tramping about from place to place as when
I first hegan to feel my legs, and when a
certain independence gave me the free
mere pedestrian do I AXE my walks
abroad Enough | have done my thirty
five miles in day, when necessary, but
because | have been of an inquiring turn
of mind, liking to see for myself, as
much as possible, at home and abroad,
the ways Of men and cities. Not as
superficial observer, either 1T may say
it myself have | tramped these many
wears no and down the world. have al
WAYS watched with as much interest the
workings of social, commercial and pollt-
ical institutions as l have the outer aspect
of people, things and places; making
thorough acquaintance with the varied
conditions OF my kind as circumstances
or the country's laws may beget them.
Thus churches, museums, picture gal
leries and the rest of the hackneyed
sights of capital or district never quite
satisfy my inquisitiye disposition. l,
forsooth, must push my personal expert
ence into courts OF justice, national as
sembles, parliaments, and SO forth the
interior Of dockyards, manufactures,
prisons, lunatic asylums, work houses,
institutions for the blind, deaf and dumb
in a word, like the oft-quoted French
sapeur, nothing to me was sacred.
But must stop my pen; it is not, for
tunately for the reader, 10 give an &C
count Of my personal predictions that |
have taken it up; only this much about
myself it has been necessary to say, Tor
the understanding Of what is to follow.
Naturally, some amount Of adventure
must have resulted from such a life; some
episodes, serious and comic, that may be
more or less worthy the telling. To tell
of the most serious, however, OF all that
ever befel me, is the purpose OF this pres
ent writing-SO serious, indeed, that
there was we'll nigh a chance of its hav-
ing brought my nomadic existence to a
premature and ignoble close. Very hOr-
rible was that time, and [ shall never
cease to look back at it with shudder,
though nearly thirty years have passed
since then.
Well, it was the merry month of July,
and upon d g0rse and bramble covered
elniuence, OveThanging certain retired
little fsh;ng-tow on our southwestern
coast, sat an artist, hard at work at his
easel. Sheltered by his white umbrella
from the rays of the fierce but declining
sun, absorbed IN the portrayal of the
lovely landscape before him, he failed to
observe the n0iseless approach Of a stroll
ing pedestrian. This latter, however,
did not, as he first felt inclined, 60 up and
boldly examine the sketch, but flung him
self down ct little distance, and thence
contemplated, as his strong eycsight en-
ablad hin TO do, the aspect OF the painter
himself; for there was something peculiar
about him, at once fascinating and dis
agreeable Fascinating, because he was
young, g00d-loc king, wild and enthusiasts
tic; disagreeable, because his appearance
c0njured up some unpleasant and, at the
same time, untraCeable Renaissance.
Where had seen him before
This was the question that interested
me. SO soon as | came close enough to
see his face, and to its solution l devoted
myself uusuCce8sfully for nearly a quar-
ter Of an hour, as | lay there watching
him. He did not notice me all that
while, but at last, rising from his camp
stool, and stepping back to take more
distant view Of his work, he glanced in
my direction, and, apparently annoyed at
the unexpected presence of a stranger,
scow!ed torbiddingly, and, in resettling
t. his work, SO TeadiuStcd his umbrella as
20 shield himself from further observa-
ton. Taking the hint, l Immediately
arose and departed toward the town,
where | was staying. He, too, was evil
IDENTIFY staying at the same place, for, after
thiS evening, [ constantly came across
him in the neighborhood. | was there,
IS 1 was anywhere during my wander
inGs for my own bebO0f and pleasure;
skctching, boating. botanizing, what not;
but whenever l met this young fellow, |
somehow seemed to wish / We're some
where else for, associated with him was
always the same vague, unpleasant remi-
niscence, which l could not account for.
One day, reluctantly on his part, de-
terninedIy on mine, we got into CONVEX
sation. hGd been sketching down on
the shore; he arrived there, apparatus in
hand, and seemed casing about in doubt
as to where he should settle himself for
sketch Very civilly | ventured a sug-
gestion as 10 position. He thanked me
CURLY, in grating voice, and with
strong, north country accent. l took ad
vantage of this Introduction to see, if |
could, by little talk with him, discover
the cause of the curious effect his pres
ence always had upon me, and find an
answer 10 the forever uHduly recurring
question, "Where have | seen him be-
fore?"
Il am a mere amateur, you know" |
went on To say, "bUt am very fond of
art; have seen great deal of it, and |
know very many artists. | can't help
thinking l must have met you at some
time or other, but for the life of me |
cannot remember where"
sit may be- he replied, abstractedly, as
he gazed around al sea and sky, cliff and
rock. Il don't remember you; on that
ledge, there, do you say there is q good
subject :" he added, pointing to a spot
had indicated
Yes, I Will show you exactly where l
think it comes best ; | have been trying to
do little daub Of it ii may give you an
idea Of the lines as they arrange them
selves And took up the sketch from
my f0lio while speaking.
lie gave but the merest glance at it,
looking with his fierce, piercing eyes in
another direction the next instant, re-
ninding me of the eYer,shifting, far-ofI
gaze observable in birds or beasts of
prey. We moved toward the ledge of the
rock. | continued: You have been
doing 4 good deal of work here, I'M
agine."
Ne answer. repeated my inquiry.
Il beg your pardon what did you
say On, yes, yes he quickly added,
"a great deal, q great deal; there's
Inc stuff about here just what like"
but as soon as we began to walk he bent
his gaze upon the ground, and became
very absent.
l was garrulous, however, as is my
wont; for having thoroughly got over,
-