The Portland daily press., 1879-03-15

beatitude of that welded fondness which
invariably, as you know, madame, gains
depth and volume from close acquaintance
with the dear object. You might have dis
covered many tokens of that serene affection
if you had followed them in their rambles
and marked how inevitably the converse of
this pair driited away from the dream-Iand of
sentiment to the homely topics of domestic
life.
LOOK, Ruth, what a site for painters
home! cried Bob on one occasion when they
had walked out along the Bartlett road to
point where Mount Washington itself looms
grandly against the northern verge, shoulder
ing way between Mount franklin and
Mount Monroe.
"You can't mean" said practical Ruth,
"you would exchange the old farm for such
worthless gropud? The view is very pretty
here and l know our house lies in a hollow,
but the soil is ten times richer down the val
ley. Why, the county hereabouts is scarce
fit 10 Craze over, and even buckwheat would
starve in land like thatv' and she pointed to
field where the stones were, no doubt, dis
couragingly numerous.
''But we don't intend to &C on farmine.o
explained Robin plaintively. II was only
thinking of the summer months and what a
paradise we might make of this quiet hill
side, rnged with forest and river aud set in
the eye OF that glorious scene. We need
know nothing of its bleak winter. for then
we should be in New York. l thought you
understood, dear Ruth. Didn't tell you |
had taken studio down in ?''
New York!' cried Ruth, almost broken
hearted by this disclosure. "Give up the
farm, take me away from home?" And the
poor girl, though unused to the melting mood
gave way to most unreasonable tears.
Here was a plight for a sensitive young
artist, who could not seriously think OF re-
lnquishing his calling and Twas 10th to see
woman in tears-how much more buxom
cousin with a hundred claims to his regard9
What arguments and Establishments, what
humoriDgs and compromises were there re-
sorted to, cannot tell, but it is certain the
betrothed pair did not quarrel. How could
they? There existed not a gsnter, more
considerate being than modest Is lin, or one
less qualified to take the tyrant's vein while
Ruth, with all her sturdy purpose and exec
tive turn, held quaint theories of female ODE
dience 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 will the model
meekDess of your Griseda rob bereavement
Of its sting. L think Bob read this in his
conpanioD's patient looks, and no doubt he
noticed that she seldom thenceforWard went
singing about the house.
There is no situation more trying to the
temper than to fnd yourself The reluctant ex-
acter OF an irkSome, rueful sacrifice, aud no
wonder Bob's spirits at this epoch underwent
considerable depression. | suppose he was
conscious OF his uDcompanionable mood, for
he began to roam about the farm alone, and
evinced less relish for Miss Nelps light chat
during hours of labor. Over Miss Tyrreirs
portrait he was most assduous, but somehow
the picture made no progress. Had Bob ad-
dressed himself especially to portraiture he
might aturaly seek to make the most of
rather fantastic subject, and surprise by one
piqdant masterpiece the sudfrages of the acad-
envy. But have often heard him disparage
that particular province of his art, and am,
therefore. at loss to explain his present
feverish and unsatisfied behavior. Two or
three weeks slipped away, and still he was
daWdllng and fddling with the canvas. Was
1t poor Ruth pensive shadow which thwarted
and obscured his work, or was there some
thing in the face he pored over which drew
the cunning from his hand?
Why should Squire Allen, who regarded
art much as Bob regarded top-dressng, select
this moment to visit the studio and ventilate
his unvarnished heterodox opinions? To be
sure he was always lettering about the house
and consulting with Ruth Lyon, but matters
OF moment engrossed those discussions, and
it was rather tardy poiteness that prompted
him to ask what Bob was doing.
The 'squire's attitude, as he surveyed the
atelier, whittier Ruth had conducted him,
was very affable and friendly, and the dis
course he pronounced on the occasion
abounded in fresh, fruitful suggestions, which
Bob in normal frame of mind wonld have
devoured with infinite gusto.
"Them picturs O. scenery" he remarked,
in the course of his review, ''air good and
VARIABLE They amt no kind O. use to me,
Init citv fOlks hot liva aoOned nm in tbop,
brick dwellings, and hain't got room to keep
garding, they kin hire chap to paint off
suthin' green and Countrywide which is hull
some TO the mind. Amt that the idee ?''
Robin thought perhaps it was.
"As for them palaces" pursued the squire,
pointing to stIeetscene in Ferrara, land
marble meetin' houses, set my foot agin''em
as savorin' o. the pomps and superstitions o.
the old world. They air the high places of
idolatry and the sink o. corruption. Let 'em
crumble to the airthl'
"Crumble" said Bob, indignantly, "can't
you see the beauty OF them as mere models ?''
"As models, p'raps," allowed the critic,
'for state-house or Boston post-office they
kin be used. But that 'ere thing" he con-
tinued, Swapping finger at Miss Tyrrell's
picture, ''you can say nothn' for! Thar amt
no sense in It's
"What do you mean ?"cried Robin, REDEEM
ing.
why, they was fust-rate," the Squire ex-
planned, Sin the old times, and with money,
too. I've got one o. them likenesses to
home that cost sight'-he referred to his
sire's presentment, executed by Luke Slim
brush, local artist of some fame-'but
who's goin' to pay, nowadays, for all them
paints and varnishes when you kin buy
photograph for dollar? Yon air smart,
Robert, kin see that; but you can't beat the
sun, nohow."
"The SUMS an ass!' shouted Robin, pro-
voGed beyond endurance. "The sun would
make Shakespeare look a blockhead, staring
and gaping at that big bulFs-eye Good Lordi
man, do your features say anything? And
the expression of your face, too, at given
moment, what is it but the reflex OF one
mood-a single letter in the alphabet of char
acter9 They're we'll 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
cret, and printed it there on the canvas for
the world to read. Talk of photographs for
a face like thatW Aud the excited artist
flung cloth over the insulted portrait.
1 am not going to revile Robin for that
ranting, Incorporate speech, for he was pres
emily heartily ashamed of it. Ruth on her
part could not have looked more COMPOUNDED
if one OF her sheep had bitten her, and speed
N@>SNSS
away.
''rhat's no business for me-" the Squire
observed, when the two had retreated to a
less fervid atmosphere. II guess it paws.
though, when you get the knack of it. iii
tell ye," he added, ''what Robert ought to
do; jest hurry up, paint off dozen of them
picturs, stock the old farm complete, and set
tie down."
81 don't know" Ruth said, in her heart
much impressed with the idea; 'you might
talk to him-but I'm afraid he don't like
farming"
"You don't mean to say" shouted the dis
gusted Squire, "that he'd go On painting ar
ter he'd made his fortin? Darned if he amt
taking right arter his father, and he was era
zy as looD!
''You mustn't say things against my un-
cle," said loyal Ruth, and the Squire looked
contrte, and then she confded to him the
projected removal to New York.
The grief which shook her friend at this
announcement was unquestionably sincere.
30 Jerlcho!' the squire groaned, "that beats
the Dutch! Who's goin' to post me about
them new tangled tools, and study the sile