Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1884-05-22
SPRINGTIME.

We were standing, my host and ], be
fore picture in his drawing-room. l
was fairly large picture, labeled Spring
time." a scene somewhere in the heart o
the Kentish woods. A messy foOtpatl
through the cOppice led up to the brow
of slight hill, and there, among the bud
ding hazels and the dappled stems of tn
silver birch, a young girl of about seven
teen stood gazing dreamily forth over tn,
misty valley that spread cut at her feet
Her hands were clasped behind her anC
held dainty posy of wood violets anC
primroses, freshly gathered; while by hel
side and holding on to her apron string
stood little chubby faced boy-like her
gazing steadfastly into the scene beyond
but with a dearer and more practical
vision.
The maiden's face was lovely with an
ideal beauty. Waves of pale, but sun
burnt, golden hair flowed from her brows
like an aureole, her skin was very pale
and delicate, but suffused on the cheeks
with faint rose-flush like the pink of a
new-blown wind-fower; dark lashes
dropped over pair of deep violet eyes of
limpid purity, and smile beamed on her
ripe, half-parted lips. She reminded one
somehow of the early dawn with its gold
en- promise in the eastern sky, or of the
springtime with its dewy freshness, the
caroling of its feathered songsters, and
the sweet smell of its tender flowers. The
primrose had lent some of its yellow to
her tresses, the petals of the wood ane-
none suffused her cheek, and the won
drous blue of her half hidden eyes seemed
to have been distilled from the shade
loving violet. Her very dress, Of some
white gossamer material trimmed with
dusky green. was in harmony with the
snowy clouds and bursting leaves of
spring.
1t was strange, poetical, fascinating
picture There was strangeness in the
wistful beauty of the girls face which you
could never fathom, gaze as you would;
and there was strangeness, too. in the
unseen valley into which she was looking
with far-away expression, as it lay be
fore her veiltd in the mistS of morning.
The strangeness of the new, remotely
spreading prospect, and the unknown life
before her were blended into one.
Where did you get that model from p
l asked. My host was an artist of Md
Il 10 ba III IL
merely a young beginner whom he had
taken fancy to, and made friend of.
partly for my fathers sake. We were
alone in the room, for my patron was
lone man, and we bad simply dined to
gether.
After had put my question he was
silent for few moments. Then he said, |
very gravely:
Well, l will tell you where 1 got that
model. Let it be secret between you
and me. In my young days l was, you
know, not at all wealthy man. Like SO
many young artists. was poor and almost |
penniless, living in my painting room it.
self and dining out at cafe; but l was |
hard working, eager to get on, aspiring to |
be a great painter. To keep soul and body |
together l painted pot flowers for the |
dealers, innumerably messy birds nests |
with blue eggs in them, artistically, but |
[ m afraid not very naturally, posed be-
side sprig of May-blossoms or a flower
ing primrose. Whenever | wanted a new |
nat or new pair of boots, l painted |
birds nest and the dealer always took it |
at the same price-e2 los. But all the |
while | was bent on painting a picture |
tk, lot.
5ious effort, a head of game lying ON
marble slab, bunch of fruit, or the corn
er of some old brick house by the canal. to |
show that l could use the brush, and get,
perhaps, a lofty place in some obscure
corner No. l was bent on painting
striking picture which would create a
and be the making of me. If
young artist is to break the chains of his
1rudgery and free himself from the
slaves lot, he must paint a picture that
shall tell.
l had chosen the subject 'Springtime,'
perhaps because was bred in the coun
Try, aud often, in my lonely 'diggings' at
1ight, l looked back on the old times
y hen l was a little urchin and used to
-oam the woods in early spring with my
little sister, to pluck the first primroSes
hat grew beside the waterfall on the old
mill stream. forget now how the ideal
arose. but it grew in my mind by degrees,
md gradually took form as time went on.
Sometimes l got hint from a book, or
mother picture, or walk in the fields;
md one day l happened TO go into a
small newspaper shop in the village of
Hornsey, not Tar from where l lived, to
ouy paper, when l saw what l had
been unconsciously seeking. 1 saw my
model.
For some time l had formed the inten-
ion of putting young girl Of budding