Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1880-02-05
N In A.
From Harper's Bazaar.

Victor Blumenthnl was sauntering
through the public garden, thinking
about tho picture he was painting, think
ing how the light among the trees sug-
geeted certain strains of music to him,
when his eye fell upon II young girl feed
ing the swans, and lingering there. eff
oonld only carry that face home in 10Y
minds eye, and reflect it upon my can
vas" he thought. "She is the very
Image of Undine herself" just then
the child beside her reached across the
brim of the basin to toss crumb into
thought Victor sprang to the rescue,
brang the child up dripping, and con-
frontod Undine, out of whose face all tho
rose had faded, al The sunshine had fed.
"Oh, how shall thank you! what shall |
do for youi" she cried. eff You had
not saved her, how could / have lived?
She is my little neighbor, and | promised
to be 80 careful of Ter. Oh, though you
are stranger, l feel us if you were my
best friendl"
"Then oblige me by meeting me here
again, and tell me how our little friend
bears her drenching," he returned as he
put them into carriage. Then he went
to his studio and tried to linn the face of
Undine, and threw down his bush in
despair. And the next day, happening
into the public garden again, there she
was before him, smiling and blushiug,
with the child beside her.
81 thought perhaps We shonld meet
you here" she confessed. ",Iennie
brings her mothers thanks. How can
we repay you but with our prayers"
"If You could gil to mo"
81? You mean Jenny?"
81 mean yourself. If you could come
to my studio, and let me paint you--"
"Oh, YOU are laughing at me ="
:" | was never more serious in my life.
"Let lis so then" she said.
"Your picture IL long in finishing"
she remarked one day, after imumerable
sittiugs; for Victor had every night wiped
out what he had laborously painted in
during the day, so difficult was it to I'M
prison the shadow OF his model within
the canvas, to lend to Undine the soul
that sat and smiled in Nina's eyes, to en-
dow her with the spirit that informed the
face, flushed in the oval cheek, or trem-
hled about the mobile mouth.
"You are tired of coming to me. l
tax You too long"
"No," she replied; Il was only think
ing thu ii made my flowers SO slowly,
/ should starve."
Victor laughed softly. Fame is bet
ter than money"
"And life Ia better than fame.
And then Victor threw down his brush.
1.-The sun is setting" he said: "let us
go out upon the bay FOR inspiration.
And Nina followed nothing loath.
How cool and sweet the hour was out
there, with sails blowing ont like wings
of white gulls in the oifing, and pleasure
boats lettering or speeding by How
gayly the sun smote the city's spires.
md changed the windows of dingy ware
houses on tie wharves into precious
stones Ike those of Aladdins palace |!
How much pleasanter all this was than
sitting ut home, in dark alley, over her
artificial flowers, trying to embody her
fancies in satin and velvet
Victor walked to the dark alley in the
dusk with Nina, and thought of the white
lilies that grew into perfect beauty and
sweetness, though rooted in mould and
slime
So the friendship grew between Victor
and Nina-Nina, the poor little flower
maker, the last Of her race, and Victor
Blmeuthal, the artist and millionaire
and the picture grew apace. Somehow
he dared not finish il lest Nina should
feel her debt paid and escape him.
"Oh, what is that beautiful thing "
abe asked one day, rs ho trilled familiar
air, while spreading his palette. "DI