Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1884-03-20
The Only Pupil.

| Miss Elizabeth Hill was still pretty
little woman, with nice hair and a tidy
little figure, when her father died.
One after the other her elder sisters
had married and left home; and Lizzie
kept house for her widowed father, and
forgot the lapse of time.
The old servants considered her mere
child. and she was always the youngest
at the rare family reunions. Her father
had advised, and praised, and scolded
her as though she had been in her teens tC
the last.
He was so old when he went quietly
to sleep for the last time that people had
thought Elizabeth would be prepared
for the loSs;' but she was not, and after
the first great grief, and the shock of
leaving the old home, when the property
was divided, and the house sold, she
found that another change had befallen
her
She was no longer Miss Lizzie, the
youngest daughter still at home, but a
middle-aged spinSter living in boarding
house.
Often when she had hurried up stairs
and shut the door of her room she had
thought to herself that she could not en-
dure the condition of things much longer;
but, after all, she dreaded to make a
change.
She was exactly in the condition to
jump at anything which offered Occupa-
ton and interest, when the postman one
day brought her circular, git-edged and
rose-tinted, bearing these words:
"Mr. Buckle respectfully desires to
make known to the public the fact that
he is about to re open his classes in water
color painting, English school, next Mon
day. Terms most reasonable. Early ap-
plication desirable, as the number of pu-
piiS will be limited. Studio No. =, -
Street"
1t was an attractive looking card, and
as Miss Elizabeth read it an idea came in
to her mind. Why should she not take
lessons in water color painting?
She would enjoy the work. She could
afford it. 1t would pass the time. She
could perhaps sketch from nature next
summer.
A little thrill ran through her at this
thought. Sne got her bonnet and man
tilla, her parasol and her gloves, and, tax
ing the card with her, hurried to make
application for place in the class before
it was too late, for it was now Saturday
afternoon.
She found the number easily. A large
building with many rooms, and at the
very top of the house, four engravers, a
lady designer on WOOD" and Mr. Buckles
name ON a neat door plate.
Miss Elizabeth, quite breathless by this
time, applied her knuckles to the panels,
and after little delay and some creak
ing OF boots on bare floor, the door
opened, and a middleaggd gentleman,
with a few gray hairs in his whiskers and
a bald spot on his head. appeared, with
palette on his thumb and brush in his
hand, and bowling politely, requested the
lady to enter.
MIR. BuckleY" Elizabeth asked with
an interrogative infection.
The gentleman bowed again.
Il received your card" said Miss Eliza
beth. Il think should like to join your
class, if it is not full"
st is not full as yet, madam" replied
Mr.. Buckle, land L should be delighted
to receive you as pupil"
He opened portfolio as he spoke.
MY work" he said; perhaps you'd
like to look at it."
The portfolio was full of sketches in
water color of English scenes, cottages,
lanes, old women gathering faggots, la
dies walking in old parks.
They were not great. but they were
very good. Miss Elizabeth was delight
ed.
How kind of you to take Glass; she
said. beaming. Such an artist as you
are"
Mr.. Buckle bowed again. He evidently
preferred bowling to speaking.
I'm sure I've seen your pictures in the
Academy" she said, land admired them.'
Mr.. Buckle blushed violently and bow
ed again.
How modest thought Miss Eliza
beth.
She inquired his terms. Tney were
very reasonable. She paid it on the spot;
received a little list of necessary paper,
colors, ETC., and went away.
Sunday passed slowly, despite its three
episodes of church-going, she awaited her
first lesson with much impatience.
At last the hour came. She climbed
the stairs again, and entered the door of
the room on which the name of Buckle
appeared. A long pine table and six
cane bottomed chairs, an easel, and some
canvases and portfolios. furnished the
room. A South American hammock was
twisted into coil, and hung over some
pegs. A blanket portiere hung on rod
within the door. But there was no one
there but Mr.. Buckle.
Am l too early?" Elizabeth asked.
glancing at her watch. Il see l am the
first"
"Oh no, indeed" replied Mr. Buckle.
ut is the other pupils who are too late
We won't wait for them"
He began his lesson at once, and Miss
Elizabeth was absorbed in her work. An
hour passed-two.