The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1883-05-03
Welded TO ART.

An old-iashioned farm house, large
and hospitable looking; lowing cattle
and bleat:ng sheep; undulating hills,
clad in autumnal verdure; in front,
across the winding country road, an Or
chard wealthy in russell and golden fruit;
In the rear, u brook, that goes prattling
and cleaning past the capacious barn,
from whose windows peep golden
sheaves, and under whose caves cling
the bulky swallows nests.
Such were the features of q pleasant
rural scene to be enjoyed by the way
iarer along certain road in the autumn
time.
The door Of the farm house opens, and
with laugh and a bound, Leila Carter,
| q maiden Of about sixteen, comes racing
out, with a shepherd dog leaping and
bounding by her side.
Very charming indeed she looked
with her lovely face and sparkling eyes,
half hidden beneath the wide straw hat,
as she ran gaily along the roadside or in
the fields, now stopping to caress some
half grown lamb, now wild with excite
ment AS stray rabbit bounded from
cover, and proceeded rapidly to leave
ont of sight the fat shepherd dog.
Here. Sport, fetch it," she cries, as
she losses stick far over a clump of
thick underground.
On the other side ofthe cIump, hidden
from view, sat young man bually
sketching. The stick fell upon his easel,
and striking his pencil knocked it from
his fingers.
Hang it," ne growleA. "Who threw
thatF" looking mp just as Leila and
Sport came dancing into sight.
| Leila stopped short as she saw the
stranger, but Sport, nothing abashed.
ran on, picked up the stick, upset the
easel in doing so, and with quick
bound escaping the full force Of the
kick aimed ut him, came wa,ging back
to his mistress.
| Haven't You anything better to do,
miss, than running over the country,
spelling a fellows work." queried the
| vexed stranger, as re picked up the easel,
and brushed off the rotten wood adher-
ing to the canvas.
He was handsome, dark looking
young fellow Of abont % with features
indicative of strength and self reliance.
As he glanced again ut Leila. and OBJ
tanned full view oil. her for the first time,
his expression softened into one Of adj
miratiOn.
| She was stopping over Sport tenderly,
but fire was in her eyes as she turned
them on the young man.
| 'How dare you kick my dog?" She
demanded.
He was about to speak more civilly
than before, when Sudden idea entered
his head, and he began again to sketch
rapidly.
'"That's all he's good for dare say
to be Kicked" he answered, carelessly,
at length.
"You don't know anything about it.
He's the best dog in the world, and
you're 4 brute for kicking him." said
the fearless sixteen.
lie sketched away as though lis life
depended on it.
ooh, wen," he replied. after another
pause. II didn't hurt him much after
all. He was too quick for me-"
| "You meant to. though, and it was
Just as mean, az though you did,
Well. yon see, ! was angry because
II don't care" said Leila; che was
S spSrt trying to please me- wasn't y0O'
He looked at her again, then at the
canvas, then added a few more strokes.
Really, don't see how he can be
blamed for that"
And lie glanced admiringly at her.
| Either the look or the words ishe
wasn't used to compliments) notified
her somewhat.
BESIDES, III make amends" he ad.
ded. "How would you like a picture
Of Sport?'
She came forward, and saw not only
Sport but herself bending over him,
with mixture of tenderness and indig.
nation in her expression that had been
very cleverly portrayed. He drew out
his sketch book in the meantime, and
hastily sketched Sport on a leaf, tore it
ctf, and handed it to her with bow.
isn't 1t lovely!" she exclaimed. "How
could you do it 80 soon? What are you
II have some hopes of winnin "a prize
next spring with it. Five minutes ago I
felt like giving it up; now feel rather
confident of it. That was the reason that
l spoke to you as did at first. I was
afraid you. would go away, so made you
II wss angry, and called you brute,
too, didn't 1?'' Well, l don't care; YOU
had no right to kick poor Sport" and
she pouted prettify,. whereat he laughed,
and humbly begged Sports pardon.
isn't your name Miss Carter" lie in
quired. abruptly.
J Eyes, sir, it is.'
| "Did you never hear of fellow by the
name of Ivan kirke?"
"Why, yes, Of course have. That is
old kirke's son, the one that was lazy,
good for nothing fellow, and didn't want
/ IN no a farms anI1 uyonf otuov fvo n.
six years ago"
He bit his lips and smiled.
II am that lazy, good for nothing fel.
low" he said; cor at least, was. I hope
! have improved since then, though I
don't want to be farmer even now"
II didn't know. l am sorry. ! didn't
ooh, never mind. dare say was
lazy and good for nothing on farm. I
used to NOPE and dream when l ahou! d
have been at work. They didn't Under
stand me and l don't blame them; didn't
understand myself, your father was about
the only one that sympathized with my
tai,cies. BY the way, should like to
see him if he is at home.'
''He is ut home. Come along and
Sport and will show you the way.'
Ivan kirke was born artist. As q
farmers lad, living III the midst of ma
lures beauties, his love for them had
been fostered, and developed into pas
sion that made him the vcxation of his
good, prosaic father. It became certain
that he would make the worst of bad
farmers
At the age OF sixteen, therefore. owing
greatly to Mr.. Carter's advice, he had
been sent away to school There he
picked up the rudiments Of art from a
fellow student, and in spare moments
applied them with such skill and orig
inality as to gain the attention of q
wealthy gentleman, who eventually be-.
came his patron.
1t must be confessed that he was sin.
gularly fortunate. Up to the present,
little Of the bitter hardships ordinarily
attendant on an artists formative peri
i cd had fallen to his lot. With the ad-
vantage Of q wealthy pat ron, passion
ate love Of beauty, and an intelligent
skill, he had made rapid advance
ment.
| He Ind made 1ur;no that time tu,o m