Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1883-11-25
The Face in the Moon.

!TC1raeme Murdoch in The Contirent]
We had all observed for some time that
Tom Eaten had been unlike himself. Orig
inally good-natured sort of chap, without
much facility in painting, to be sure, but
with any mount of ambition, he had pleased
us all. The one or two sharp criticisms on
fis.pictures that had been accepted by the
hanging committees and the innumerable re-
jections he had sustained at their hands,
seemed at last to have really turned his tenn
per. He grew blue, sombre, now and again
gruff, and sirgularly loquacious on the sub
iect of his art. He would crate by the hour
ON theories OF painting, and was some
times ingenious, if obscure. l was
talking to Gleason Towner about him
one day, and Gleason, who deals in
>caustic speeches, said: Sum up Tom
Eaton, and he is a good example of a limited
man with an unlimited ambition He was
supposed to have great talent and started
out in life under the impression that he was
genius He lived in this dream for q while;
now he is waking to find he is only an ordi-
nary sort of man like the rest of us 1t makes
him mad, or if he is mot mad, he soon will
be- if he goes about with his notions and
talk
A week or so later, Eaton monopolized an
evening at the, KiteKat club by giving us his
new views ON art Art meant only por-
trsiture. Everything else from still life up
to landscape, wcs a mere accessory. He
really dawdled Oh with his thought, though
his words few fast enough, and felt as if he
were killing his friendships as [ glanced
abot!t the room ard saw numerous indica-
lions of suppressed yawns.
IL was SO. Gleason Towner said: Eaton
To GxlC -,
an insane asylum, NOT in an art club"
81 really think hiS brain is cracked eug-
gested Bob Langley. 't'They say he has an
uncle who"
But come one brake in with tidings pf e.
new madel, and we ds opped Tom Eaton.
do not believe gave the fellow Thought
again airtil he chaneed upon me the next
summer whleI was staying in an out-of-the
way village in Maine, on sketching excur-
sion. Que day, in July, | stumbled upon
Eaton sit4ing out under his umbrella, paint
ing.
"Hello, sid mhnl given up portraitss' ]
called rennembering by the association o;
ideas his talE the izst time | saw him.
mo, this Is poFarait, and he turned his
easel toward me To display a most Indifferent
figure of an Irish woman with u basket in her
hand.
He held his brush idly for a moment, and
then looked up Mt me,auicki5.
q Lave colus here 70 see you" he said alb
ruptly 81 beard you were here. win you
90 rowing with ne Tonight! I have some
thing b. say 10 yOu-a secret. l have come
all this distance f. find you, Cor say it
mustn
] VIII 6 Mess to a vague remembrance OF
Eatons queer ways, but am not half a bad
fellow, an was, moreover, a trifle battered
ii this pro, of confidence and friendship SC
consented
AT 6t h. asked
80 At 81 Lanswele8-
Meet mel ere at this poirif if you will.
shall be busy until then, and DO not care to
see YOU and ie|y chat over nGthings while my
secret chokes Al my throat
lie laughed uneaSily.
"In love- tn, ught 1; land shall lie in a
boat aHd listenito descriptions CT her beau
aies and her charms all night. Heigh-hop
At 5 o'clock precisely had reached the
Ytoint, but Eatoplvas there before me sitting
IN the bost oars 81 hand, padding about vn.
esEily ,Ee had pulled Off his coat, and us ht
WAS a fine brawpy fellow, looked ut hiz
with some admiration.
'sKThat Hercules you aref' cried
''and what a crab, a turtle, are youi Sc
in"
AS ! iumped into the boat, annoyed by hi
tone, which was almost savage. l stumhles
against his paint box and a'big bit of canvas
What are these things doing hereEa
Queried. as sat down The stern of the boat
They 90 where l go,s he replied. The!
are my tools"
We did not speak for some time. EatoI
pulled hard and fast, and lay back with m
hands under my head and looked up at tn
sky. It was Just before mconriSe, and tn
heavens We're in their golden glorious expect
ancv. l did not care to breakthe silence. Tn
secret of the night wsS grande- and more II
teresting than any petty human contdenc
cosld be. Eaton spoke first.
You are not curiouss'
Il beg your pardon; am ready
he was silent again for few moments
Il an going to be great painter" he said
abruptly.
Ali il was not love secret then
But ~ accomplish my end 1 must tax
terrible means. l must condemn myself t
years of agony. 1 must condemn also al
other being to briefer but very horCibI
torture
Then it must be love story, after ALL
''YeSf' replied, as he paused. putting 6
much expression as l could into the words.
My mind. curiously enough, rambled bac
to another moonlt night when was quite
lad, and when l sat in the stern of a hos
with such a beautiful little girl, Anita Gray
son by name. a child of IL, perhaps. Som
one sitting by had said. "Anita looks ike til
moon and had watched her during the reS
of the evening and wondered why, and gor