Little Falls transcript. [volume] (Little Falls, Morrison County, Minn.) 1876-1894, 1883-10-05
CARRADINE'S LOVE.

CARRADlNE'S LOVE. =
Carradine sat alone at his easel, painting:
and as he painted he thought Eight years be-
fore, when he was poor struggling boy, just
entering on that race which must be run by
every aspirant to art and its honors, there hap
pened to him something which neither time
nor toll had ever been able to efface from his
memory. AS he was passing along the streets
q wreath of fragrant roses suddenly fell on his
head, and looking Up IN wonder, he beheld,
reaching out from the embroidered draperies
of an overhanging window, a child, with fairy
IKE proportions, with great dark eyes and long
curling black locks. awho stood smiling and
throwing him kisses from her curved lips,
coored like a pohegranate While she
still gazed, nurse had come forward and
drawn the child away; the curtains were
closed. and he saw the little creature no more.
Such was the vision that the artist had carried
e. long IN his memory; in his memory only,
for he had 30 second glimpse OF the child.
That very day an accident occurred which kept
him prisoner in his room for several weeks,
md when next he went out the house was
empty, and placard with great haring letters
announcing it for sale stared him in the face,
from the same window in which the little
white-robed elf had stood waving her hand
aud smiling to him. In course of time other
faces appeared there, but they were strange
faces, and among them was never the one for
which he looked.
thought of all this; Of the struggle that had
ended at length in success; OF his hard, IN
friended boyhood, and OF the beautiful child
with her fragrant rose crown, which had
seemed almost like prophecy. That rose
wreath, dry and withered now, was all that WAS
Left to him Of the fair vision; but when that
morning, in turning over an old portfolio, he
had come upon it by CHARGE, it smoke to him Of
that by~gone day just as eloquently as when it's
blossoms were fresh and full
Eight years ago. no said. thoughtfully, let
tin, the shriveled circlet slip through his
she lives. If? No, I do not doubt her living
presence--somewhere. wonder where she is
now, and what she is like at sixteens"
With that he placed the wreath beside his
easel, and began to paint. The face, as ii grow
dewy morning blush Of first youth, With viii shad"
ows in the great dark eyes and half smile
about the bright curled lips like an embodied
summer sun shower. 1t was thus that the ar
fist pictured his ideal Of the child woman,
whose infantile look and smile for eight long
years had been his own dream of love-
Carradine had not had an easy life. An or
phan from his earliest years, DOOR and un-
friended, he had studied hard for the means to
crafty that inherent idolatry for art which was
always clamoring to find expression in form aud
coloring. He hud fought and he had Won; but
now, at twenty-six, he s. God in the D ace which
he had gained for himself almost as much
alone at the very heart as he had been eight
years before. when the child's gift came to him
as prophecy.
1t was not that he was fr1endless. There
were men who liked and sought him, women
who would gladly have taught him to forget
bis loneliness in their affection. But though his
nature responded rapidly to any kindness, there
was one chord, deeper than all, that remained
untouched, and from tho sweetest glances his
thoughts went back to the unknown ch1ld that
had smiled down on him so long ago.
The ideal head became his great source of
enjoyment, and dreamy softness shaded his
dark grey eyes, as line by line and tint by tint
took him back into that past, which, all life
less as it was, seemed to him. in those mo-
ments, more real than the busy present. Yet
memory, it was not so much the lovely child
that he saw in fancy, as the beautiful girl
whose face, with fuller depth and sweetness,
locked out 1T him from his own canvas.
hstinctively, he hardly knew why, he dis
liked to work on this picture in any other pres
solitude. So it happened that it was nearly
finished when by some chance, friend dis
covered him bending over it, too absorbed to
hear any approach. AS the door opened, Car
radine rose hastily, turning his easel to the
wall, 80 as to conceal the face upon it. This
l1ttle SCrdtaSGu, however,, WAS ueSuu0O TO D6 OF
no avail Having been marked by the in
truder, one Of those cordial. we'll meaning peo-
pie, good natured TO a degree, but with little
delicacy of perception--the action at once
aroused his curiosity
"Aha, master painter,' he said, with laugh.
s1et Us SEQ what it ia that you work at by your
self till it steals away your eyes and ears. Only
one peepn
With that, he laid his hand on the frame, and
receiving no forbidding word from Carradine,
turned it around. The next moment he was
loud in praise
s:But who is it, Carradine? If it is portrait,
tell NE where to find the original, and will, if
1t is 3 seven days. journeym
Carradne smiled.
eff myself knew where to find such an
original should not be here to tell you, my
good friend" lie answered evasively.
led, as the artist had desired. Il might have
saved myself the trouble of asking. No real
flesh and blood face ever looked like that
more shame to nature, say. OF course you
will exhibit it, Carrad'ne?"
@:No" answered the painter, quietly.
"No" repeated the other IN surprise. sBut
nv dear fellow, you must, Or I shall betray
your secret and you will have swarm of WIS.,
itors, worse than plague of Egypt, let in upon
YOU"
Uarradine hesitated A chance word in his
friends speech bad suggested possibility
son. -,
"You are rigbt,'' he said ri shall send the
picture for exhibition. It will be better So"
After his visitor had left him alone again,
Carradine bent low over his easel, gazing into
the lovely, qptnrned face until it began to fade
ssIt-itp' he murmured to himself, half un-
consciously: ssBut it cannot be. YetJl will
send it-and perhaps-'' -: ,-yss.
And SO the picture was sent. in due time:
and 1t seemed almost as If Carradine's soul
had gone with it and drawn HIM to follow.
Hour after hour, and DAY after day, he sat in
the gallery, scrutinizing eagerly every face
amid the visitors, whom taste Or fashion had
brought to look at the now celebrated artists
latest success. Every night he went away IN
satisfied, aud every morning he returned with
hope springing afresh in his heart 'E:<1 T.. -
Still, the object Of his search, whatever it may
have been, does not appear; and one day, dis
cour&sed at Last, he resolved to 20 no more on
go frui:less an errand. Shutting himself in luis
studio, he began to paint, but, strive as he
would, he could command neither band nor
fancy. Finally, tired Of repeated failure, he
abandoned work, and yielded to- an impulse
which drew his steps in the customary uirec-
ton T. r. u: 5&%s -. S&. a3 &5 -
When he entered the small side room in which
his picture hung, be found but two persons
within, a young man and a girl 5ssgsg " 2 - -
Carradine could not see the faces of these
two but with an earnestness for which he was
at loss to account. he followed their retreatlng
figures as they moved slowly toward his pic-
lure. But the next momenI an exclamation Of
establishments burst from the lips of the young
man. s&35 5. Ss.E xzSS
ssWhv. here is your portrait, Lsilia! What
does it mean Who San the painter be W S5
eth that he hurried QUITO purchase q cafa-
.osue. Carradine advanced quickly to the girl
81 an the painter, = he said s5Ss s
She turned and looked at BIN with one steady
hes tod