Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1875-07-29
frort;n,,ed from frs. pssc.l

WORK, lenu HcT own DdUleS, nave IWo Cah
co gowns a year-and, maybe, new
silk once in five--not she ! She was wait
ing for the prince to come and array her
in satin. and laces, and jewels. But she
was not such fool as to say so even IN
whispers; and to all appearance she was
sweet simplicity ITSELF guileless and unso-
phisticated as a child.
What was Cindy's ambition 1t had
taken no tangible form as yet. But uou
had given this girl, who had never seen
more than two or three really fine pictures
in her life, whose knowledge OF the MIRA
Giles of art was confined to few enSraV-
ings and photographs, an instructive love
OF form and color, and burning eager
ness to reproduce them.
The creative instinct was strong within
her. She drew. as the bird sings, from
pure love. with no thought of what might
come of it. But upstairs, in her own
room, there was one bureau-drawer filled
with scraps. bits of cardboard, drawing
paper. envelopes, and what-not, covered
with pencillings, outlines-bits of glowing
life Of the girls heart and brain. There
were crude attempts at color, too: here
flower; there spray Of grasses; now a
child's face, and then a bird with folded
wings. There were glimpses; OF sunset
skies, and one stretch Of blue sea, with Il
lone ship fading in the distance.
/ said there was fiuttering in the dove
cote. The studies that formerly held Eliz-
beth, lost their attraction, and she began
to feel an intense interest in all that per-
tains to art. Raphel, Guido, Michael An
gelo-these became upon her lips COM
mon household words. She never tired Of
sitting metaphorically speaking, at Win
throp Alden's feet, and being taught of
him. Art was the one thing neediul. and
her very soul did reverence at the shrine
of the genius that could make the fleeing
beauty of day immortal as the stars!
Laura played different game. She was
arch and saucy and coquettish. She praised
his work to-day and made fun of it to-mor'
row. Then when she had succeeded in
annoying or wounding him, her penitence
most bewitching; and, with tears in her
sweet blue eyes, and a culver of her child
like lips, she would plead her ignorance
and inexperience, and beg his pardon with
dangerous humility
One day she came running to him with
a pretty affection Of simplicity.
''Oh, Mr.. Alden" she said, clasping her
hands, "if you will only teach me how to
draw have wanted to learn all my life.
But how could /. away up here, where
there are no teachers-no anything? May
be-" she went on, naiyely, dropping her
eyelids till the long lashes swept her cheeks
''maybe could appreciate your work bet
ter If should try my hand at it, and learn
some of its difficulties"
Mr.. Alden laughed outright. 1t seemed
supremely ridiculous to him that he
Winthrop Alden--should be asked to give
lessons to his landlady's daughter, and the
idea OF her being able to Judge of his diff
culties by any she was likely to encounter
But the very simplicity of the request was
so amusing, that he said:
very well, Miss Laura. 1t is bar
gain, if, in return, you will be my guide to
all that is beautiful and picturesque in this |
wild region"
"Oh. thank you!n she cried. II have
been longing to show you some lovely
views ever since you have been here, but
feared you would think me intrusive. Shall
we 60 up to Sunset Rock onight, Mr. AL
den? I'd love to go!'
Poor Cindy For the first time in her
life she envied Elizabeth aud Laura. This
new hero of theirs was no less hero to
her. AZ for loving him, she would as
soon have thought of lovinga star Of the
sun itself. But this man was the em5od-
ment of all her dreams. He did with easy
careless grace--the ease and grace of Il
god, 1t seemed to her-the very things
that she longed to do. He lived her own
ideal life. 1t was hard to be in the kitch-
en-, doing Thorough work, while Elizabeth
sat in the cool, shaded parlor, leading
Winthrop Alden on to talk OF his work
and its aspirations, of artist life and its
romantic associations-of all, in short that
was dearest in Cindy's soul. 1t is hard
to ba Smelling peas for dinner, while Lau-
RI in the prettiest of morning dresses, wan
dering over shady hooks with her-draw-
ing master.
One day she was washing the dinner
dishes, trying vainly to recall the blithe
content OF former days, and wondering
whittier it had flown. when Mr.. Alden
passed through the kithen. Pausing for
moment in the shadow of the trumpet hon
ey-suckle, with his hand upon the door
post, helooked down the fragrant garden
paths, and then back into the room which
the heat of various culinary operations had
not vet escaped. Cindy's cheeks were
flushed, her hair lay upon her forehead in
little moist brown rings, her hands trem
bled. and she looked thoroughly uncom-
Portable.
ut is very warm to-day, Miss Cinder-
ella" he said. Even genius can offer COM
monplaces.
cinderella she cried. opening her
brown eyes at him, as she nearly dropped
"a tumbler. "What a funny idea! That's
not my name, Mr.. Alden"
at is not? l beg your pardon. But
they call you Cinda-Cindy-d they not
! supposed it was for Cinderella.
''itis not. 1t is for Lucinda--just plain
Lucinda. Mr.. Alden"
Observation-Disclosures he repeated
nusingly. while his eye moved around the
room. taking quick note of everything,
from the pots and kettles on the hearth to
the saucer of pansies on the window sill,
and the young girls tired face. "A strange
blunder OF mine. But really supposed it
was Miss Cinderella"
He hesitated a moment while sudden
light broke over his face, and smile
played about his mouth.
'Cin-de-rel-la, he said again, linger-
ing on the word. ave are not going to
the princes ball, Miss Cindy, but we are
going up the hill to the pine woods. Those
cool green silences will be delightful such
day as this. Won't you go with us?"
90 All swould they NOT he . She ionppu