Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1886-09-15
TOO LITTLE BUTTER.
The Great Trouble Caused by a
Stupid Artist.

Yes, certainly did wrong, and the
dark days that my punishment brought
i could not but feel were deserved.
When | was eighteen, father died, and
his orphan children were left to learn
the meaning of the dismal word pow
erty. We had livod for many years in
different places in Germany and
France, and had never revisited the old
home in New Hampshire, which l
could dimly remember. Father had
been Vice-Consul and then clerk in a
bank until mother died, when he
seemed to lose all interest in outside
matters, and stayed quietly at home in
our little apartment ut Mannheim.
After his death, was obliged to seek
employment | was well educated,
and | was engaged rs goyerncss to the
little Countess Valerie Won tLilicnberg.
She was beautiful child with rip
pies of long golden hair tossing in
downy rings over her head like MINI
bus, and she had swift, floating,
noisclcss way of walking, that was
very spirit-lkc. Valerie was not quite
ten years old when | entered the fam
lily, SO my duties with her were not
very burdensomc. was to teach her
English, talk that language with her
constantly, take her to walk, and
watch over her when others were not
in charge. We grew very fond of
each other, and her sweet, loving ways
helped me more TO overcome my grief
at fathers death than any other influ-
cnch | can remember. l saw very lit
tie of the elder members of the family;
Count Lilienbcrg had an important
position at court, and was often alb
sent; the Countess, his wife, was busy
With the claims of society, and had
ii nc for little else. knew she was
very fond of Valerie, but save for u
drive in the afternoon and a good
night kiss and blessing. she scarcely
ever saw the child.
Part of the second summer of my en-
@agcmcnt with Valerie we spent at Hell
dc!berg Here will allow myself brief
iigrc sioa, to tell what is TO me by far
/; most interesting and most impor-
t.jnt part of my story. Down at the
md OF pretty, quiet lane, under the
shadow of the old "Schloss," was an
artists studio, called the Mouse-Nest.
1t was rather crowded, being shared by
= sculptor and painter, but it was a
wonderfully fascinating place to visit.
The pa ntcrwas n German, with an UNI
iuly crop of hair and fine voice for
student songs. The sculptor was Tracy
Norton. We had met the year before
father died, and that summer Tracy
asked me if would be his wife. Iloved
him, and had accepted him. He was
poor, but that was nothing for a young
man of his promise; he had not sold
any statues yet, but he had two gold
medals for industry and talent, and or
dcrS were sure to come later.
Once Il week Valerie and went to
the Mousc-Ncst for brief half hour,
and think for both of us this visit was
the plcasantcst event of the week. Val
eric, for her age, was unusually fond
of pictures, and to be able to watch
them from the first splash of paint
upon the canvas, TO tho final touch OF
high light, was deeply interesting. All
this was very innocent amusement to
American eyes, but l knew that my
employers would regard it in very
different light, and that their etiquette
forbade two girls going unattended to
an artists workshop, even though one OF
the girls was child, and the other was
engaged in marriage to the artist. They
would disapprovc of it for Valerie, and
for mo as Valcrie's guardian.
Here begins my fault, of which
have already spoken. When returning
from our first visit to the Mouse Nest, |
said to my little companion:
1--WE will say nothing at home OF
where we have been, Valerie, or per.
haps they will forbid our going again. -
Tracy was modelling statue Of
10y ho, NhiSh hc hopcu W ccHu 10 tnC
exposition at Dusseldorf the following
year. The drawings for it represented
the half-draped figure of beautiful
young girl, sitting on n messy bank,
with clunrp of primroses growing al
her feet and her head turned with
sweet, easy grace to butterfly, pcrchct
lightly on her bare shoulder. The fig
urc was well on toward completion In
clay, but Tracy had not yet found the
model he fancicd for the face.
Walking one day near the Molken
kur, Tracy met and joined Valerie ant
me.
81 have an idea, Audrey" he said
presently, in an undcrtone. 81 thought
II over half the night, and / have de
cided that the face of the little Count
ess Is just what l want for my Psyche
My figure is of girl of perhaps four
teen, but her Ecccllcnza Valerie looks
at times much older than she "; In
fact, she often seems to be contcmplat
Ing with those big, purple, Russian
| IL