Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1875-12-18

T from the mill and shake Bob's ha II j..
81 take Ruth aside to disclose a notable
project for suppl wing tue Notch house vi IN
eggs ana butter. The sagacious housaw e
dis cerned much promise in that schem 4,
for .hwith got out pens and paper, and wa
pre- entity deep in figures, renOuncing utt arly
for hat occasion such frivolities as moon
light walks.
"Nellie will CO." she said; and accordingly
Robin, who would have preferred perhaps,
to drink ms llitude the spirit of the hills was
attended by that yivacious young per,on,
and RECALLED with divers histories of sewing
bees, spelling matches, maple scrapes and
sleigh-rides which had signalized the pre-
yiOUs winter.
Nor am I sure when the times were more
suspicious, and no graver cares balkei the
communion of lovers, that Ruth and Robin
were often betrayed into the ThapSOdies OF
strong emotion, or developed "a very fervent
sympathy. You see their a; t2ChmHnt was no
glddy impulse, or brief heyday of the bloc /;
Ii had withstoOd the test of years, aud APP
pToacEed ION one side, at ieasJl, the calm
beatitUde of that welded fondnesS which in
Variabiy las you know, madam), gains depth
ana volume rom close acquaintance with
tie dear object. NOu might have diScoVere
many toks Us Of that serene affection. If You
had fo.lOwcd them IN their rambles and
markCG how inevitably the converse OF this
sentiment TO the hOmely topics OF domestic
IIfe.
"Lcok. Ruth, what a site for painters
home" cried Bot. on one occasion, VIII they
Lad walked out along the Bartlett road u a
point where Mount Washington itself looms
sraGdly against the northern verge. shout Ter
ine way between Mount Franklin and
Mount Monroe.
You can't mean" said practical Ruth.
you would exchange the ola farm for such
worthless ground? The view is very pretty
Icre. and know our house lies in hollow
bat the soil is ten times richer down the
valley. Why, the country hcreaboutS is
scarce ut 10 Craze over, and even bgckwhcat
would StaTvc in land like that? And she
II Tsf,
UOu3t UlScOuTag iIgly numerous.
But we don't intend TO go on farming
explained Robin plaintively. II was only
thinking OF the summer months. and what
paradise we might make of this quiet hill
side, hinged with forest and river and set in
the eye of that glorious scene. We need
Know nothing OF its bleak winter. for then
We should be in New York. 1 thought you
unders TODD, dear Ruth. Didn't L tell you
had ia Ken studio In tOwn?'
New YOrk?' cried Ruth, almost broken
hearted by this disclosure. Give up the
farm, take me away from homer" And the
poor girl. though unused to the melting mooi,
gave way To most unreasonable fears.
Here was plight for sensitive young ar
list, VINO could not seriously think OF reling
his calling, and yet was 10th to see
q woman cry-hOw much more buXOm
cousin with hundred claims 20 his regard?
What arguments and establishments, what
humOrings and compromises, were there re-
sorted TO, cannot tell, but it is certain the
be rotbed pair did not quarrel How could
they? There exists not gentler, more con-
slderate being than modest Robin, or one less
qualified TO take the tyrants vein; while
Ruth. with all her sturdy purpose and exc
cutlNe turn, held quaint theories of female
obedience and wholesome notions of the
rights of man. Yet all the fostering and
Comforting in the world cannot sweeten the
cup of exile TO the foolish Switzer lass, nor
viii the model meeknesS of your GriSclda
rob bereavement of its sting. / think Bob
read this in his companions patient looks,
and no doubt, he noticed that she seldom
thencetCrward went singing about the house.
THERE'S no situation more trying to the
temper than TO find yourself the reluctant
eXacter of an irkSOme, rueful sacrifice, and
no wonder BOb's spirits at this epoch under
went considerable depression. / suppose he
was conscious of his uncOm panionable MOOD,
for he began to roam about the farm alone,
and eYineed less relish for Miss NelPS light
chat during hours of labor. Over Miss TYR
relfS portrait he was most aSsiduOuS, but
somehow the picture made no progress. Had
Bob addressed himself specially to portrait
ture, he might naturally seek 10 make the
most of rather fantastic subject. and sur
prise by one piquant masterpiece the sufIra-
ges of the academy. But have often hearl
him dlsparage that particular province Of
his art, and am, therefore, at loss to ex-
plain his present feverlsh and unsatisfied be-
haviOr. Two or three weeks slipped away,
and still he was dawdling and fiddling with
the canvas. Was IL poor Ruths pensive
shadow which thwartel and ob clret his
work, or was there something in the face he
hand?
Why should Squire Allen, who regarded
art much as Bob regarded tOp-dresSing, Sc
lect this moment to visit the studio and ven
tilate his unvarnished heterOiOX opinions,
To be sure he was always lettering about the
house and consulting with Ruth Lyon, but
matters OF moment engrossed thoss discus
slonS, and IL was rather tardy pOliteneSS
that prompted him 10 ask what Bob was do
ing.
The 'squire's attitude, as he surveyed the
"A yvb I'm
very affablc and friendly, and the discourse
he prOnOunce d on the occasion abounded in
fresh, fruitful suggeS Lions, which Boo in a
normal frame OF mind would have devourei
with infinite gusto.
"Them picturs o. scenery" he remarked
in the course of his review, ''air good and
but city folks that live coopel up in them
brick dwellin's, and hain't got room to keep
garding, they kin hire chap TO paint Off
suthin' green and country-like which is hull
some TO the mind. Amt that the idee?''
Robin thought perhaps ii was.
GAS for them palaces, pursued the squire,
pointing TO street-sceDe in Ferrara, land
marble meetin'- houses, | set my foot agin
tiOns o. the old world. They air the high
places of idolatry and the sink o. corruption
Let 'em crumble to the airth!"
"Crumble!' said Bob, Indignantly. Cant
you see the beauty Of them as mere mOdels?"
LAS models, p'raps," allowed the critic,
'fOr a state-house or Boston post office they
tinued, swapping fin ger at Miss TyrrelPs
picture, "you kin say nuthin' for! There
amt no Ser Sc in it,"
"WhatGo you mean?" cried Robin, REDEEM
ing.
"Why, they was fust-rate," the Squire ex-
planned, ''in the old times, and wuth money,
too I've got one o. them likenesses to home
that cost sight"-he referred To his sire's
presentment, executed by Luke Slingbrush,
local artist of some fame-''but who's goin'
10 pay, nowadays, for all them paints and
varnishes when you can buy photograph
for dollar? You air smart, Robert, / kin
see that; but you can't beat the sun, nohow!"
1.-THE suns an asst" shouted Robin, pro-
vokcd beyond endurance. ''The sun would
make Shakespeare look blockhead staring
and gaping at that big bullseye. Good Lord!
man, do your features say anything? And
the expression Of your face, too at q given
moment, what is 10 but the reflex of one
mOod-a single letter in the alphabet of cha
racter? They're well fitted to fools-yOur
photographs! But the pregnant face, the
soulful face, demands painter to probe and
ponder it, until he has spelled out its last Sc
crct, and printed it there on the canvas for
the world u read. Talk of photographs for a
face like that" And the excited artist flung
cloth over the insulted portrait.
am not going TO revile Robin for that
ranting, Incorporate speech, for he was pre-
Sently heartily ashamed of it. Ruth on her
part could not have looked more cOnfoundeI