The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1885-08-27
One BEAUTIFUL WOMAN.
BY KENRIDGE.

BI hENR1DGE.
The studio looked unusually dull
and dreary, with its dirty, paint
bedaubed easel and the one solitary
broken old chair that did duty for
artist and visitor alike. But then there
were never any visitors, so George
Ellison did not trouble himself much
on that score. He would even have
liked to risk little modification for
the sake of seeing some one else be-
sides the scrub-woman and janitor en-
ter that dingy room.
1t was q square, box-like room
quite unlike any ideal one would form
of an artists studio. OF course there
were pictures lying around, and the
collection was increasing only too rap
idly. rtor he worked assiduously day
<afIer day. IrLLsa A,.g;s
"Pve got enoughs. -stocn- TIL. whoie
Exposition" he muttered, MODIFY. DIS
he stood contemplating the last pictufS
on his easel-a landscape which showed
some fair traces of genius. Fact
is" he went on, as his careful
eye noted its defects, that tree
painting is not my forte. If 1
could only sell few of these and hire
model-the kind of model want
why, then I'd get on good deal faster
thon I'm doing now"
He was a young fellow of only
twenty-tree who had worked his way to
Chicago from country town, where
he had gained the rudiments of the art
to which he intended to dey ote his life.
Il 80 a. ~,
had so dazzled his mind with visions
of the wealth and reputation to be
made in large city, that he had come
to Chicago with any amount of hope,
which, however, was beginning to
wane, as the weeks passed by and he
still remained unnoticed and unknown.
He began to think that the people of
Chicago had no appreciation of the fine
arts; that it was true what envious
Eastern cities said of them-that they
cared more for stocks and pork-pack-
ing than for the refnements of civilized
life.
One day, feeling more than usually
discouraged, he stopped work quite
early, and sauntered forth to get what
fresh air he could on the crowded
thoroughfare on which the window of
his studio opened.
AS he came down the east stairway to
the entrance. two ladies were Just
emerging from the jewelry store at its
side. He did not see them, but they
noticed him, and the younger one
gazed at him with curiosity that was
not altogether unfriendly.
II wonder who he is, Nell" she
whispered, nudging her companions
elbow. "His clothes certainly didn't
come from Ely's., From the fit of them
he's evidently made them himself, one
would think, for such fearfully baggy
pantaloons never, saw, not even on
the poorest beggar."
Don't talk so loudly-he might hear
you. It's no business of ours-the fit
of his clothes. Is that Cottage Grove
car coming?'
The object of this conversation was
still standing in the doorway, looking
dreamily upon the moving mass before
him.
"And if / could afford to hire q
model" the two heard him mutter,
"where on earth would / get one? Not
in this city. Chicago has some fine
looking women, but I've yet to see one
beautiful woman"
Mrs. Colby gave her sisters arm a
gentle tap with her parasoL
@There-Ethel, listen, and do not
waste your sympathy on him any more.
He deserves to wear baggy pantaloons
all his life long, just for that miserable
TRADE against Chicago women"
ALAS. that i am not endowed with
sufficient beauty to prove his terrible
mistake to him. murmured Ethel, as
she signaled the car-driver.
"No one with pug nose could hope
to do that, even if she has got good
eyes and decent sort of q mouth.
said her sister cruelty, and the CONVEX
sation dropped at that point.
But Ethel Harbridge did not forget
that pathetic figure standing in the
doorway by Nelson's; and in a few
days she resolved to go past the place
again. There was not the slightest
chance of seeing him, she kept repeat
ing to herself as she neared her desti
nation, and laughed at the absurd whin
which had brought her. But she came
across him, notwithstanding her opin
ion of the contrary, and, strange to say
was not at all disappointed at the fail
ure Of her prediction.
He was Just going up the stairwa,
with q small bundle under one arm
through the end of which she saw
palette and some brushes sticking out
Just as / thought, the poor fellow