Milford chronicle., 1885-11-20
EARNING HER LIVING.

EARNING HER LIVING.
Minna's room was not light at the
best of times. Its one window, plant
; ed dormer-fashiOn in the roof, gave q
view of the blank whitewashed side
Of an adjoining house, which lowered
up a story or so higher than its
unpretentious neighbOrs.
But Minna-a parsonage who always
made the best of things-had abso-
lutely persuaded herself that this was
the best light in the world for her oil
painting.
There are no bursts of sunshine or
stray sunbeams to disturb the clear,
cool atmosphere" said she. ARTISTS
alt0ays prefer this sort of light"
For Minna Morton was a working
girl. Too delicate to stand behind the
counter or superintend the busy loom,
she yet endeavored to earn her own
livelihood by means of an artists pal
cite and sheaf of brushes.
Her outfit had cost a considerable
sum-there was no denying that; but
Rosa Hale, who stitched kid gloves in
3 downtown factory, had lent her the
money for the purchase, and little
Bess Beaton, the landladys daughter,
'sat" to her two hours every day after
school, quite satisfied with ginger
bread nuts to MUNICH and a battered
rag doll, which had belonged to Min
mas own younger days, to play with.
And Minna was young and hopeful,
and in the far distance saw herself
acquiring name and fortune by means
of her beloved art.
This morning, however, the room
seemed a degree gloOmier than its
usual wont; and when Minna arrang-
ed her canvas on the easel, a dim sort
of misgivihg crept across her heart.
1t was simple picture that she had
painted-a little girl playing on a sun
flecked barn-foOr, with a brood of
chickens futtering around her, and a
stealthy cat advancing from beneath
tangled masses Of hay.
Yesterday the little girl had seemed
animated with real. actual life; the hay
had seemed to rustic in the wind; one
could almost perceive the sinuous,
gliding motion of the cat. But to-day
it was as if a leaden spell had descend.
ed upon everything
cam an artistP". Minna asked her
self; cor am l mott"
Rose Hale's step. coming softly down
the stairs, aroused her from a disa-
greeable reverie.
She hurried to the door, with the
almost invisible limp which had al
ways haunted her since that unlucky |
fall of her childhood.
"Rosa," she said, "are you in a hur-
ry2 Do come in a mOmentP
And Rosa came in, with her little
brown bonnet neatly tied underneath
her chin, and her lunch-basket in her
hand. on her way to the factory where
'real imported kid gloves. fresh from
Paris" ware turned out by the dozen
gross a day.
"What is It, MinnaP" she asked
cheertully.
"LOok at this picture" said Minna,
drawing her up in front of the easel
"Well, Pm looking" said Rosa.
"What do you think of it?"
"What do 1 think of it?' Rosa re-
peated. "Why, think it is beautifulr'
"Oh, 1 know thatP' impatiently
cried Minna. "The bits of hay are
painted to perfection, and the rat
holes in the barn,foor are copied ex-
actly after that one in the corner of
The cupboard; but all that isn't true
1rt, Rosa. Does the child look as if
The would speak to you?"
"The checks in her gingham apron
IRE painted beautifully" said Rosa,
;imidly.
Minna frowned.
'But the cat?" said she. ais it a
i've catP Do you fancy you are going
o see her springP"
@N-no,' unwillingly admitted Rosa !
IT'S lovely cat, but 1t is only ptct- !
IRE Of e cati Minna-dear Minna, ] /
haven't offended you, have I?"
"Oh, nor said Minna. lightly. "But
-ou have told me exactly what want
d to know-what was sure of my
elE Good-by, Rosal-and mind you
ont bring me any more of those deli
ious little bouquets. They're lovely,
ut they cost five cents, and you
aven't any fve-cent pieces to throw '
way '
And so, with a loving kiss, she dis
lissed the pink-cheeked little factory v
iii. who was always so kind to her; a
nd then she sat down in the Upas 1
hadow Of the dismal whItewashed 81
rail-, and cried; y
u knew Il eli along" ahs declared Il