The Washington critic. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1885-1888, 1885-09-12
THE ARTISTS STORY.

y
very one that | take pleasure in giving
the history Of.
We were seated in my studio, my
friend Ralph Wallace and myself, and
before Ralph was standing the picture
of which he had been speaking.
"Thcn begin at once, for this baby
face haunted me the whole night
through. ! stole in here yesterday
while you were trying to convince your
wife that no threads of silver were
visible among the golden meshcs of her
hair. BY the way, ! see her going
around the house this morning with II
satisfied, superior sort of look upon
her face, and, my dear boy, it leads
me to think that you came out second
best in the argument.
"Ralph, If | had told that woman
that saw old age creeping upon her,
and that ! saw u silver thread among
the gold, she would have been up in
arms instantly. 1t is funny, but really
my wife is glad she is getting gray,
humiliating as 1t may be to her pride,
if for nothing more than getting the
better of me in the argument. Dear,
dear, what have suffered at the hands
of that woman this with fond look
across the hall and through the door
way where his wife is busy darning.
II would like to hear about the pic
turc. so if you can keep your eyes OIL
that lady across the way for few min
utes | am ready to listen"
"Oncc upon time, while walking
along the street, when | was Lee Rossi,
the poor artist, and not the famous in
dividual | now am excuse the remark,
but really, Ralph, | have never gotten
over the habit of letting very little
praise turn my head completely, my
eyes caught the glimmcr of a little
trinket lying just at my feet. On
STOPPING to pick ii up that wonderful
baby face gazcd up into mine with
such a cunning look in its eyes, and
such mischievous smile playing about
the corners of the rosebud mouth |
thought had never seen such n baby.
Then that tanglc of golden ringlcts,
that looked rs though baby had been
taken right from play to have her pic
ture taken.
"Well, | put the lockctin my pocket
and came home with renewed energy
awakened, for thought would paint
a large picture of my baby and would
compete for the prize at the contest
which was to come of
II worked night and day at the pic
ture, resolved that | would finish ii be-
fore advertising for the owner, and
during this time | grew to love the lit
tie face which greeted me every morn
ing on entering here to begin work.
Did you ever find the owner of the
locket ?" asks Ralph of the artist, who
has apparently forgotten all about the
story in smiling back at baby.
cone morning after | had finished
the portrait | heard timid little knock
at the door, and on opening it saw a
lady standing in the hallway. Such a
vision of beauty ] had never seen be.
fore. A glance at the sad, though
beautiful face, told me without looking
at the dress and bonnet of black that
she had recently undergone great
| sorrow.
"A little stray lock had become UNI
| fastened, and was nesting on the low,
white forehead as though proud of its
resting place. While talking TO me
one little hand moved rcstessly about,
as though seeking some support, and
having at last found its mate they be
came intcrlaced, and remained so while
her crrand was told.
"'Twas the voice that charmed me
most of all believe | never heard II
swceter, softer voice Except my wifc's;
you must acknowledge that she has
that one accomplishment Ralph.)
"Shc wanted to have picture of
her brother enlarged, and thought per-
haps, rs | was n new beginner, she
would let me attempt it.
by this time we were inside the
studio, and Mischief Chat was the name
| had decided upon for my picturc) was
standing on an easel facing the door.
"Thc young lady's gaze rested for n
moment on the picture and | saw blank
establishment written on her counte-
nance. Turning to me with flushed,
puzzled face, she says
Where did you get that picture?'
Il told her the same story | have
been telling you, and | had great eX.
pectations in regard to my picture. Ii
seemed as though at sight could con
ldc in this beautiful girl who looked sc
trustingly into my eyes"
anu Nlldl hhNl tul0 Slll W wv WIN
the picture p says Ralph, who is agar
impatient at the long delay,
"Why il was she who had lost Tho
picture. Who was the baby? My baby
had grown up and was now stand
ing before me, Twas n picture heI
mother had taken of her eighteen years
before, and which the girl had Away,
carried in the lockct worn suspended
from little chain around her neck.
Having taken out her brother
from the other side of the locllct few
weeks before, for the purpose of hav
ing il enlarged, she had saved it from
being lost, and was now here with thi
picture.
"Thc perfectly cut mouth | coulC
clearly trace now and the mirthful eyes
as for moment my young lady smile
ut Mischief, but again her face re
sumcs that PARKWAY expression.
well, took the order for the pic
twe she had brought, and which sh
laid in my hand with loving look, Il
though 10Th to part with il, for he
brother had died recently, and it wa
her one little treasure
"She came often after that, and b.
degrees / learned her sad story
Being an only daughter, and havin
hut one brother, wealth of alrcclio
had been bestowed upon these chillre
by their parents When Alma Has
mgs uhis was the young lady's nam,
was in her eighteenth year her parent
determined to cross the ocean and l.
Alma finish her musical cducato
there Mr.. Hastings settled his bu,
ness affairs in New York, and wit
wife and children started over to r,
main couple of years. The vessel /
which they sailed sprung leak an
was swept away by fierce storm
Alma and her brother were saved, an
We're taken ON board another vessel.
"rhe pitiless sea had deprived I'll
children of both parents. They can