The Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1877-1885, 1882-05-28
MISS. WILDRosE.


Miss Wildrose was very young when
she made her earliest literary venture.
1t was in a long poem, of such scope
and nature that at first no one was dis
posed to believe it could be the work of
a girl not yet twenty. But she had made
no affectation of Disgusting herself I'M
der silence or with pseudonym, and
the rector of the parish had heard por-
.tions of The Song of the Morning
Stars before its completion; and when
this was known, and the first poem was
followed by another and yet another
kindred to it, the doubters were silenced,
and Miss Wildrose took herplace among
the poets-on the bench with Milton
thought her family and friends; on the
humblest footstool of all Miss Wildrose
herself thought. She was content to be
the lowest there; only to be in the glori-
| Gus company al. all was was quite enough
for her.
OF course the work was criticised.
This great critic counted the number of
Saxon derivatives on a page, and honor
ed or dishonored her according to his
sum total, and that one weighed her
rhymes in the hair balance under glass
that is sensitive to the sound of the fall
ing snowflake, and the other found a
real mares nest of delight in a lame
foot of the blank verse. But the people
liked the little books, and the popular
acknowledgment was such that Miss
Wildrose's head might have been turned
if her art had been less a matter of mo-
ment with her, or If just at that time she
had not met Raphael Stuart and loved
him almost on the meeting.
She had always lived in the village.
He came to her like being not only of
the outside world, but of the world of
| art in which her dreams and fancies
lay For he was painter of more than
common promise il not yet of absolute
| performance, and if poor as the tradi-
tional painter is, yet with too much love
of the colors and harmonies and shapes
of nature that belong to all who can see
them to sigh for those heavier Injuries
that belong only to the few. In time he
would like them too, but just now he
had youth, art and love. What more
could he wish?
Like most Young artists, Europe was
his coal, if ever he could sell enough
sketches to warrant his departure. And
now. since coming to the village, he had
doubled the distance between him and
this goal; for how was he going without
| Miss Widrose? and in order to take
| wife with him he would have to make
twice as many sales as he had counted
on before. Miss Wildrose,s little in
| come from her books would not go a
great way in their mutual purse, for the
| sale of the best liked verses is not a mir
aculous draught, and she had really
worn out various copies OF her books in
| the service of borrowers not buyers.
Moreover, as Mrs. Stuart, she could hard
| " make herway with the SAM expense
less simplicity as when cn!y Miss VIVID
r1s =, Plainly old age was likely to
creep upon them both before they could
venture 10 let their lives become one
and make their vision of those old streets
and galleries, those summer seas and
! glacier tops. thing Of real life.
This, however, did not seem so sad
thing to Miss Nidrose as it did to Ra-
phael. She could goonsinging her songs
in the little village as long as her heart
and soul were in sympathy with the
| great strain that nature sings, and here
! was Raphael all day and every dayzabe
/ side her But it troubled her atlength
/ little to see his unrest. Perhaps she
caught the unrest herself. Her work
| felt theatrouble, aud for time she fear
ed she hal lost the secret word of her
/ power; she bean to be as eager as he
for the impossible.
II want my outlook opened, he cried,
searching the blue sky with his bluer
| eyes Il want to see for myself how
| Raphael turned this line, how Veronese
| blended those tints, how Rembrandt
| flung that shadow. I want to know
| what they mean by saying Turner made
| color do the work of drawing. | want
! to see the great masters of to-day in
| their studios or a1ield. / want to see
| Venice before some accused steamboat
rips up her looking-glasses. -
| 81 want to see the Euganean hills, said
! Miss Wildrose, casting her glance dream
| Nv along the flat country where never a
hill was seen.
| ..And / want my home, my wife, my
| HEARTH he said, and then for a little
| time the lovers happiness seemed only
| high value of their art.
IF YOU could only be sent to Europe"
said she at last. If you could be con-
sui in some foreign town in France or
Italy, or in the East, or in the north of
Africa
IF could go abroad and be paid
for it, he said laughing. 'sAh, yes,
| if I could have the moon for my Ian
ternr'
..But it is not impossible" she ans
wered with Frightening smile ''Now
1 consider it not at all impossible. / re-
ally think it may be conpassed. Oh,
Raphael, if it only shosiid"
4 am afraid you are building castles
and the scaifoltiing is in the Clouds he
said
s.Listen then. Isn't the new Secretary
of State a man of lettersp Hand-in- glove
with publishers and as1thorsP A patron
of painters too?'
"A regular Mmcenasl My darling,
your wits are as bright as your eyes.
Take me for clod! I see it all now you
have illuminated it. Yes, yes, good
case ought to be made out between my
credentials and yours.
Sob. shouldn't want to figure in it, -
she murmuled shrinkingly.
Then you shall not. My little wife
shall stay on the dark side of the moon
till she wakes up and finds herself in
gondola some sunset, with the moon in
the lagoons."
And it was not month before armed
with all sufficient papers as he deemed,
Raphael Stuart was waiting in the
e. rNf