The Morristown gazette. [volume] (Morristown, Tenn.) 1867-1920, 1878-11-13


Tfelt sad and heavy Of heart-per-
haps because no one needed my
presence-and taking the needle
work, from which it seemed my fin
gers were never to be free, l went
out and sat down under the shade of.
Ghe sweetbriar hedge, in sight Of our
netghbor. Mr. Raymond's orchard,
whose wealth of snowy bloom made
all the air redolent with delicious
scent. @ E-sFr1 ..se-EF
Poor Mark How all our thoughts
turn npon the hinge OF that secret
10y or sorrow which lies concealed
within usl loved Mark now as
we'll as in the days welded him,
but l did not honor him as 1 did
then.
Alas. that should have grown to
say tito find out how unstable he
was.
Who was so noble as Marcus Ker-
rison? who so stable. energetic. per-
severing as he-or as he seemed
when he came counting at my faith
er's little rustic vicarage
s.You won't object to me because
1 ann ia d shipping house. will you p
lie said to my father in his ingenu-
Gus way. II gain five hundred year
now. aud daresay | shall be part
ner before Iongt"
And my father took him by the
hand and said he honored men who
were in business, and led usefnI
lives.
So we married. And in less than
year Mark had thrown up his good
post, and tnen-taken to painting !
Four years had rolled by since
then; and Mark was twenty-nine
years of age and six and-twenty.
The two little ones, frail as those
blossoms falling in the orchard, had
been taken from US early, one after
the other.
Perhaps it was as well. Never
tbeless my tears still fell fast for
them.
Mark was one of those unfortun-
ate beings who. possessing the soul
OF true artist, are yet denied the
power that makes an artist success
full.
He thought be was genius. He
thought that if he painted pictures,
he would become rich aud famous.
When his mind became unsettled,
he grew to hate the routine of the
Office. the Flooding industry of his
daily life. So he threw it all up
one unlucky day, and set up a
studio. E
Still Mark had good. noble, gem
erous heart. if he had not been led
away by this ignis-fatuus-this iuea
that he had that he was made to be
great and famousl
Meanwhile we must live; and our
house had been given up, and its
contents cold piecemeai, as We wan
ted money. -..-....-....
Never mind. Helen" he would
say; Il shall have bags of gold some
time: f
We lived now in q tiny cottage
near to Henry Raymond's, who was
the second partner in the shipping
house.
1t was wearing towards the close
of that blessed afternoon in May.
when 1 arose to go home, strength
ened and comforted. @F ~
/ saw nothing of Mark when en-
tered: be was still in his room.
set about preparing our evening
meal-a labor quickly accomplished.
for there was little to prepare.
Tea and bread and butter do not
take long-but made potato sal
nd for Mark. How poor we had got
to be
Putting the vase OF flowers upon
the table, as Mark loved to see them.
Invent up to call him.
He was seated before an unfnish>
ed painting of that scene in the tenn
pie, described BY St. John, where
the woman charged with sin is
brought before the Master for judg |
ment and condemnation.
The dropping head. and penitent. |
depreciating attitude of the Magda-
len. and the fearful, bafled face of !
her last accuser retreating slowly /
from the temple. were perfect in
themselves, but the figure of Jesus,
lining himself up to inquire Of the
woman for those who had arraigned
her, was faintly delineated. and the
artist inspiration seemed to have
failed when most needed. j often
thought It pity Mark chose these
AMBITIOUS subjects; be might have
succeeded better ia simple ones.
But it made him cross to say so.
"shall you be able to do this,
Markr' rs aa
he frankly answered. 81
cannot portray the infinite mercy,
Tenderness, and compassion Of that