The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1878-11-06
Morris Dream-Picture.

thought had been up pretty late, play
ing billiards with Gale Randolph and
some OF the boys. | remember dis
tlnctly OF scoring seventy eight on a run
four ball game. Well, | went to bed
tired out, dreamed did; fell asleep and
dreamed this, which | call a dream
within a dream
''Well, Mort" said /, 1.-The thing il
not 50 extraordinary after all 1t Is a
common enough psychological phenome-
1 non"
81 beg your pardon" quoth Mort
Amerman, satlrically, would you be
good enough to reel me off a little of
that last again, please? Say couple of
fathoms on So"
None of your chatting now!" laugh
ed |, ''but tell me what has all this
Chinese dream puzzle to do with the pic
ture you promised to show me?"
Much, o Sahibl for on the silent vet
speaking canvas have | depicted the
scene whereof | speak, and now lie voci;"
and with that he threw the cover from
the painting on his easel, and left me to
examine it at my leisure. while he went
to his bedroom The easel was of course
IN the best position in the studio for
viewing the picture, and the soft, deli
cate light of the autumn afternoon Law
full upon it, mellowed, however, by an
arttul arrangement Of screens and shad-
ows, to gain the precise effect desired.
The painting was of the ordinary cab
in size, and appropriately painted,
being also relieved by heavy maroon
drapery, gracefully festooned behind and
around it. | am not of those who be
lieve that truly master-work of art
may be described aptly in words, yet l
must essay the task for this once, and if
render only the bald outlines of the
artists thought, it may be, perchance,
that | shall still. be enabled to convey
some gimmering OF his meaning.
What first fastened itself upon me was
the murky darkness of most of the
scene. There was dense and gloomy
forest filling up the entire background
and much of the middle distance. Out
from among that under the trees,
streamed a wild torrent, and plunged
over ragged rocks, and through and
about the gnarled roots, and between
riffs in the solid stone, and 50 down to
leaping cascade that disappeared at the
extreme right in a black and gloomful
pool. Stretching back from the right
broad eXpanse of gray moor extended In |
prospective sight to the base of a range |
of blue-gray hills, that lowered aloft IN !
to the clouds; a narrow path wound |
through this moor into the dim distance, |
and was lost, apparently, in the shades !
of night, which were fast falling.
On the very edge Of bold rock that
jutted over the pool, and on the very
boundary of the waterfall, was the only
seemingly living object of the picture.
\ young man PROSTATE on his knees,
shading his eyes with his two hands, and
gazing intently into the pool beneath.
There was that in the attitude of the
figure, so deftly and truthfully expressed
by the artist, that sense and meaning
grew upon me as / gazed. He was ago
nizing -distraught. His whole soul
was looking forth from his eyes, and
seeking in the dim twilight now fast fad
ing to wrest from the ;obscurity beneath
him some terrible secret. So clearly was
the story told that my gaze instinctively
followed his, and tracked, as his must
have, the secret of the black pool.
Iwinlng about the base of the rock, up
on whose crest the young man knelt,
meshed and tangled warp of roots and
hbres first met the eye. But now, cling
ing with a death grasp to the largest of
these L saw the round, fair arm of
young girl-and then-and as though l |
should have seen it, and nothing else,
from the first, so completely did it now
MI the picture, saw The white figure
imp white garments clinging to the
body-and the fine white face, with rich
golden hair floating and tangled, on the
water and among the roots, and could
almost note the swaying to and fro of
the soulless form, as it was caught by
the eddies, and dragged hither and
thlther; still held, however, by that
trusty dead arm that chung so determin-
eddy to the Shiny and black root above.
a touch on my shoulder so startled
me that L cried out; it was only Mort,
who had entered the room unnoticed, so I
intent was l in my concentration.
"W ell, what do you think of it?" was
the first and most natural question.
'1 on never could have dreamed |
that" said 1.
Just as you see it, dreamed l it,
doubter- Now let me cover it up; and |
let US go and have some lunch"
But don't be in hurry !" said |,
seeking to stop him,as he again shrouded |
the painting beneath its cover. Il have |
not half seen it yet"
But muttering ''some other time" he |
persisted in hiding it from me, and pre-
sently we went to lunch together
Now, | was in no way satisfied with |
my friends reticence, and experienced |
very vivid curiosity to hear the partic- |
ulars of his wonderful dream, which he |
had so graphically limnee npon the can
vass but no effort of mine could induce |
him to say more concerning it than that |
it occurred to him just as he had painted |
it.
The painting was sent to the academy
for exhibition tina season, and was sold |
to a particular friend of mine for goodly
sum-for so much, in fact, that l often
ioked Mort on his dream-picture and the
fortune it had brought him; for it really
seemed as though its sale was the begin
ming of a season of great prosperity.
The winter and spring passed, and as
summer came and the city began to
empty itself by carloads and steam
boatfuIs into the country, Mort and L.
with party of other artists like him, or
idlers like myself, made up trip to the
Adirondacks. 1t is needless for the pur-
pose of this story that | should detail
our sundry adventures during the weeks
we passed among the lakes and hills; nor
need relate our experiences with fish
flesh in our numerous hunting and fishing |
We met many acquaintance, and
made many new ones, and among the
latter were the family of Mr.. Santield, a
merchant from Montreal, who, with his