Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1885-11-11
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 a
view of the blank whitewashed side
of an adjoining house, which lowered
up 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
ARRAYS prefer this sort of light"
For Minna Morton was 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
ette and sheaf of brushes.
Her outfit had cost a considerable
sum-there was no denying that; but
Rosa Hale, who stitched kid gloves in
a down. town factory, had lent her the
money for the purchase, and little
Bess Beaton, the landlady's daughter
sat" to her two hours every day after
school, quite satisfied with ginger
bread nuts to MUNICH and 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 hersel
acquiring name and fortune by means
of her beloved art.
This morning, however, the room
seemed degree gloomier than it
usual wont; and when Minna arrang
ed her canvas on the easel, dim sor
of misgivihg crept across her heart.
1t was a simple picture that she hac
painted-a little girl playing on a sun
hecked barn-hoor, with a brood o
chickens huttering around her, and
stealthy cat advancing from beneath
tangled masses of hay.
Yesterday the little girl had SCENE,
animated with real. actual life; the ha,
had seemed to rustic in the wind; on
could almost perceive the sinuous
gliding motion of the cat. But to-da,
it was as if a leaden spell had descend
ed upon everything.
cam | an artist?" Minna asked her
self; cor am l not?"
Rose Hale's step, coming softly dow
the stairs, aroused her from a disa
greeable reverie.
She hurried to the door, with tn
almost invisible limp which had al
ways haunted her since that unluck
fall of her childhood.
"Rosa," she said, "are you in hur
ry? Do come in moment"
And Rosa came in, with her littl
brown bonnet neatly tied underneat
her chin, and her lunch h-basket in he
hand. on her. way to the factory wher
"real imported kid gloves, fresh fror
Paris" ware turned out by the doze
gross day.
"What is it, Minna?" she aske
cheertully.
"Look at this picture" said MINI;
drawing her up in front of the easel.
"Well, I'm looking" said Rosa.
"What do you think ftp"
"NVhat do l think of it?" Rosa r,
peated. "Why, think it is beautiful!
"Oh, 1 know that" inpatient
cried Minna. "The bits of hay al
painted to perfection, and the RAJ
holes in the barn-noor are copied e,
actly after that one in the corner {
the cupboard; but all that isn't tru
art, Rosa. Does the child look as
she would speak to you?"
"The checks in her gingham apro
are painted beautifully" said Ros
timidly.
Minna frowned.
"But the cat?" said she. "Is 1t
five cat? Do you fancy you are goin
to see her spring.
"N-no," unwillingly admitted Ros
"It's a lovely cat, but it is only pic
ure of cat! Minna-dear Minna,
haven't offended You, have II"
"Oh, no.! said Minna, lightly. "Bl
you have told me exactly what / wan
ed to know--what was sure of m,
self. Good-by, Rosa!--and mind yo
don't bring me any more of those del
cious little bouquets. They're Lowell
but they cost five cents, and yo
haven't any five-cent pieces to thro
away"
And so, with loving kiss. she di
missed the pink-cheeked little factor.
girl, who was always so kind to he
and then she sat down in the Up;