The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1886-06-13

STRAHAN.
A STORY, BY SIDNEY LUsKA.

Strahan, the deaf-mute sculptor, is famous
now; but at the time with which we are con-
cerned. he was still struggling in obscurity. he
lived and had his studio In an abandoned
stable, which stood by itself. midway between
Ninth and Tenth avenues, on Ninety-fourth
street-a rickety wooden structure. one story
high, hot to suffocation in summer, and in winter
iustifying the traditional simile, as cold as
barn. But the rent was low, and the light was
good; and Strahan, considering everything.
thanked his stars that hs had any roof at all
under which to sleep and do his work; for, like
the better part of his craftsmen, Strahan
YES poorer than q church-mouse.
Toward dusk one Christmas eve Strahan sat
among his plaster casts, prey to a swarm of blue
deyils-voracious parasites, that gnaw with pc
culiarly sharp teeth when the heart they are at
tacking happens to be associated with an empty
stomach. Strahan's stomach was empty, and
30 was his pocket book. He had made up his
mind that he would have to go supperless to bed
this Christmas eve; and now. while the dusk
deepened, he sat alone in his studio, and unused
upon many cherries theme.
OF course, ere long it got dark; and then, in
due time, the streetlamp in front of Strahan's
door was lighted. The light dared in through
the window, and sported Enthusiastically with the
white paraphernalia of the sculptor's trade; but
Strahan paid no heed In spirit he was far
away, laboring through the slough of despond.
His feshy envelope remained where he had left
it. fixed and motionless, like its plaster neigh
bors How long this state Of things lasted,
do not know, nor does it matter. Long enough,
fn chill fnl1nw,a haarf
through and long enough, certainly, to chill his
body through; for, by and by, he shuddered and
got up and crossed over to his stove. But his
stove was cold the fire in it had gone out Find
ing which to be the case, Strahan raised the lid
of his bin, and looked in. There was just
light enough for him to see that his coal-bin was
bare. Then he went to the door, opened it, and
stepped into the street.
The day had been mild-sky overcast, wind
from the southeast, and atmosphere charged
with lukewarm moisture. But now the wind
had veered around into the northwest, and it
was rapidly blowing up cold. The clouds had
scattered; the air had become dry and stinging
million stars were shining overhead; in the I'M
paved roadway the mud was freezing. Strahan
stepped into the street, and stayed there till his
observations of the weather were complete AT
ter that, he returned indoors.
The condition of affairs was grave A cold
snap and an empty coal-bin formed the most
disastrous of combinations. Not that Strahan
minded the cold much on his own account-he
could move about and keep warm. But his
Lilith-she upon whom he had lavished his
thought his love, his strength, his skill, for a
eek Oh x,,ho 60 of
the fountain of his hope-to her cold might
mean nothing short of absolute ruin. She was
still in clay, not yet quite ready to have her
mold taken in plaster, and if the clay should
Freeze 1t surely would, in this refrigerator Of
Astudio, unless there was ire-if the clay should
freeze! Strahan did not allow the appalling
notion to assume palpsble shape. He picked up
the battered bushelb basket, which. in bis do
mestic equipment answered for q coal-hod.
donned his ancient wide-awake hat and set out
for the grocer's shop He already owed the
grocer snug sum for fuel. and it never oc-
Cured to him that that worry might prove un-
willing to add another item to the account
The grocer sat comfortably behind his counter
reading German newspaper and smoking a
German pipe AS the bell over the door tinkled
at Strahans entrance, the grocer lowered his
newspaper and glanced up. But when he saw
who the newcomer was and recognized the
familiar outlines of the coal-basket he pursed
his lips, knitted his brows, shook his head and
gesticulated deprecatinely with his hands.
Though the significance of this pantomime was
unmistakable. it failed of its effect Strahan,
not to be dismayed, drew pencil from his peck
ct, took scrap of writing paper from the coun
= ter scrubbed word or two upon 1t, and handed
the paper to the grocer.
''Coals-please," was what Stranhan had writ
ten.
The grocer in his turn. produced pencil, and
wrote by way Of rejoinder, ''Got emmy mummy"
Despite the absence of interrogation point,
Strauhan construed this to be question, and
made q sign in the negative.
Again the grocer shook his head and waved
his hands.
''Do you mean.r wrote Strahan, shat you
will not trust me for basketful!
The grocer nodded.
'sWhy metz" wrote Strahan.
~ 90, wrote the grocer, abiding doubtless
to the amount of Strahan's present score.
II shall surely receive some money this COM
Ing week." wrote Strahan, "and then I'll settle
with you. You must let me have Goals tonight
or else my work will be destroyed Please let
me have them"
Strahan's eyes-eager as the eyes of dumb
persons won't to be-devoured the grocer's
face, as the latter scanned this appeal.
For third time the grocer shook his head and
waved his hands. But this time he did more.
He pointed mpatiently toward the door.
Strahan took the hint. Outside. he cast a
covetous glance upon the erocer's securely pad
locked coal-box. If he that looketh upon an
others goods to lust after them, hath already
committed robbery in his heart, Strahan at that
moment sunk to the level of pick pocket
Back in his studio, he realized that the condi-
ton of affairs was now worse than grave. 1t
was getting desperate The wind kept freshen-
ing, the cold intensifyipg. Strahan had not
penny In his purse nor an object in his posses
sion which might be exchanged for money at the
pawnshop. To the other grocers of the quarter
he was stranger. He could expect no credit
from them. Yet it behooved him to kindle a
fire at once. and to keep it going at least till
morning. Otherwise
His Lilith stood in the center of the floor
shrouded in damp cloths. Impulsively he put
mt his hand to earess har Horror Tho cloths