Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1883-06-19
THE PICTURE.
ART IN MORALS,
go 9 step fartherp"

'FShan't go q step fartherp'
''Oaly just little wayne shall soon be
home now, and mothers waiting.''
81 don't care. I've made up my mind
that I've walked too far already, and Pm
just going to sit down and rest; they must
wait. and l shall do as I choose" -
"But father"
CHOW don't you talk to me about buts,.
Charlie, because won't have it. / shall
sit down bere, and you can go and tell your
mother not so wait-not to watt the man
repeated, raising his voice with the stupid
anger of intoxication.
Still, in spite of threat and refusal, the
child persisted in pleading that his father
should go home; but his words only seemed
to strengthen the mans obstinacY, and all
the boy could DO Was to, get his father to
turn aside from the high road into field
close by where the man threw bimself at
full length on the grass, somewhat under
the shade of the heaaasase, and IN a fas,
utes he was sleeping haav'- ,;,.t mih, 4h
sfra1ga ksp,s ..Ctle distance, with a
o. of unchildish patience on his
.aCures, to wait until his father should
wake. Poor little Charlie! he knew too
well how useless any attempt on his part
would be to rouse his father from that sort
of sleep.
Rather more than half an hour had pass
ed in this dreary waiting, and Charlie was
beginning to find all his small sources of
amusement fail him. He had watched a
large bee that kept lowering over the con-
volvulus blossoms in the hedge, and, won-
dered if he had not nearly finished his day S
work; had placed a snail out of harms way,
and had been tempted to chase beautiful
painted butterfly that fitted past him; but
he began at last to lose his interest in bees
and butterflies, for it was now tea-time, and
Charlie was growing terribly hungry. Still
he did not think of deserting his post, for
no one but the child himself knew how
often he had kept his tipsy father off the
country road when carts and carriages were
coming along, nor how he had managed to
guide him in safety over the narrow bridge
that led across the river to their cottage.
So Charlie sat there quietly, though he
was growing more tired and hungry every
moment until the sound of whistle at a
little distance attracted his attention, the
sound gradually coming nearer and sound,
ing more distinct, until a young man jump
ed over the stile at the end of the field and
approached the child, who then knew him
to be a gentleman he had often met during
the last few weeks, sometimes sketching,
sometimes wandering about with his KNAPP
sack on his back and his portfolio under his
arm. Indeed a kind of half acquaintance
bad sprung up between the young artist ano
Charlie-one attracted by the glimpses he
had caught of the pictures contained in the
wonderful portfolio, the other by the child's
wistful glances and his rustic beauty.
Busy with his own thoughts, and judging
from his happy face, they were very pleas
ant ones-perhaps dreams of the time when
some wonderful picture of his should hang
on the walls of the academy, and by so do
ing help him on the road to fame and for
tune-Eustace Carroll had half crossed
the field before he noticed Charlie
and his father. Then his quick eyes tolC
him the meaning of the little scene; the
quiet, weary-looking child and the sleeping
father, with his untidy clothes and collal
and necktie unfastened, and his face turned
up to the blue sky that looked down upor
nothing so debased as this man, whom Goo
had made "a little lower than the angels,
and who, by his own vice, had thus de
graded himself.
With the quick instinct of childhood
Charlie understood the look of DISCUS will
which the young artist turned to him, say
ing kindly as he did so:
1'You are waiting to take your fathe
home, suppose?"
eyes, sir" replied the child, whilst
flush of shame spread over his face
''Well, I think he is likely to lie there fo
hours yet. Can't you leave him?"
''No, sir, he might be run over or fall in
to the river if l left him to come home b,
himself"
"Ohr' said Eustace, as he glanced toward
the sleeping man, and wondered if it would
be much loss to any one if he did fall int
the river; but he checked the thought, re
membering that he, with his refined tastes
and many kinds of amusement, could form
no idea of the temptation which drinl
might have for this man, with his smallel
advantages of fortune and education; ant
then an idea flashed across his mind, ant
he determined to act upon it.
''Have you had your tea, boy?" he asked
as heunstrapped his knapsack, and took ou
: small parcel wrapped in paper.
"Mother will be sure to keep it for M
until get home, sir,' replied Charlie, to,
brave to complain to stranger.
s'That's all right" said Eustace, under
, standing and respecting the feeling tina
dictated the answer; meanwhile, shal
, give you this piece of cake, just to pass th
. time away When was a small boy, stra
. pieces of cake never prevented me eatinl
, my meals when they came, so your mother
tea will not be wasted Now you sit sti