Union County courier. [volume] (Elk Point, Union County, D.T. [S.D.]) 187?-1913, 1885-12-23

soIShssasd sati1t. M subjsce ~
etnple, nCtAine new, yet visitors returned
aoa5n - aGain - gaze atA
y waa ths last dAy Of IL exhititions
When = 10y md ssnelemata, the gentlcs
man Leading : httls Siri Or peshaps 3 years
~ ~ hanSb pAsssd into the . where
s0hi INIT ttoo bad thefsis zach 4 crowd;
wanted 70 - II, exclaimed the lady: TO
which ~ gentleman replied:
We viii look It the other pictures first
and come back again; perhaps there viii
VIII MOI b such 3 crowd them
An hour o. two later the gentleman and
lady retainsdl then the room was almost
deserted, except FOR ) few strangers here
and there. It wal just about time b close
the gallery.
For ! few moments they stood in silence
befOre the painting; then q little voice said:
sBaby wants to see, too, papa
Shopping down the gentleman raised the
pretty, daintily- dressed child In his atns.
After grayely regarding the picture for Q
second, the little one asked:
rs Eay mad, papa?"
u am afraid m was, pet came the low
answer, a. Edwin Bennett softly kissed the
fair cheek Of his little girl. Then his gaze
returned to the painting.
A stretch Of yellow sands, dotted here
and there BY huge boulders and piles Of
snowy pebbles, against which the over.
hanging cliffs looked almost black. Gentle
little baby w Ripping In toward the
shore, while majestic, purple hued silver.
edged clouds seemed floating en- nsdsse to,
ward the golden, crimson barred sun that
flooded the sky and water with its warm
light.
In the center Of the picture, where the
bench formed . curved resembling q horse
shoe, was an old boat, turned bottom up
ward: some few feet on, the figure Of q
young man, apparently walking hurriedly
away. Although the face was not visible,
the gazer felt mat the man suffered, that
the glorious sunset was this day as nsuCht
TO him. Perhaps 1t was in the tightly
claspcd hands, the veins Of which stood
out like great cords, or may be, In the
mans apparent total disregard Of his sur.
~roundings.
To the right Of the picture was the figure
OF q young girl, trailing u parasol in the
sand, as she appeared TO move slowly in the
opposite direction from her companion.
Only q little bit of q delicately- shaped eal
md . mass Of glossy braids showed from
beneath the shade hat, but one could
readily believe that the pretty girlish figure
belonged to an equally attractive face.
About half way between them, traced
upon the sands, were the words, Fame
versus Love-"
us II not lovely, Edwin" and Mrs. Ben
nett laid her hand upon her husbands arm
az she added;
"Yet how sad it somehow seems. / can't
help feeling sorry for them; l wish / could
see their faces; l feel as if l wanted to turn
them round"
Clasping the little hand that rested so
~confdingly upon his arm, Edwin Bennett
inwardly thanked God for the gift Of his
fair young wife. as he said:
aCome, dear, they are commencing to
close up. Baby's tired, too"
"Ess, mes tired. Baby wants to tiss
mamma, lisped the child, holding cut her
tiny arms.
Husband and wife failed 70 ro.ice a lady
who stood near, gazing ut a painting. As
the pretty young mother stopped down to
receive her baby's kisses, which the little
one lavished on cheeks, lips and brow, a
deep, yearning look gathered in the strange
lady's eyes, and she turned hastily away.
20 Edwin" exclaimed his wife, as they
passed the silent figure 10 black. "Wculdn't
it be nice IL baby should grow up to be q
great artist like this Miss Armstrong;"
"God forbid, ANNIE" came the earnest
reply, followed by, Let her grow up to be
a true, loving woman, that Is all l ask"
The laay's hand frightened its hold upon
the back OF a settee as the words reached
her ears, but she did not move until they
were out of sight. Then, lifting her veil,
she went and stood before the painting
that had won such fame. Tears gathered
in her eyes as she gazed, and with the
words, II will never look ut it again. she,
too, passed out of the building. and in her
own handsome carriage was driven home.
Scorn shone in her dark eyes as they fell
upon the costly works Of art scattered in
lavish profusion about her l%uxuriously-
furnished apartments. Hastily throwing
aside her wraps, she crossed over to a mir
ror. A very handsome face it reflected,
not looking the thirty years it had known.
Helen A~rmstrong--for it was she-had
heard OF Edwin Benefits marriage, heard
that he had succeeded in business beyond
his most sanguine expectations; heard that
his wife was one OF the l~oveliest and gen
tlest of women, and that Edwin Bennett
idolized both wife and child. This day she
had seen them.
Then came the thought that she might
have stood in that wife's place; she, too,
might have had those baby lips pressed as
lovingly to hers; but she had put it from
her. She had chosen fame versus love. If
she could only go back to that day ON the
sands, how differently she would now net.
Turning YEARLY away from the mirror,
she exclaimed, bitterly:
"Too late, Helen Armstrong. As you
have sown, so you must reap."-Florence
Reuere Fender.