The times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1882-1897, 1886-07-23
A FORGOTTEN PICTURE.

A FORGOTTEN PICTURE.
Rummaging through q dusty closet
of my studio the other day-a closet
where / had tucked away unfinished
pictures for years. came upon little
sketch in oils Which sent the blood
tingling through my veins as had sup
posed it never could do again. l put it
on the easel and sat before it for hours,
living over again an episode in my life
so filled with pleasure and pain that it
may interest others to read it. Let me
describe the picture. In the distance
low cottage standing in dim outline
against the sky, in which one streak OF
red at the horizon left by the setting
sun just lends light enough to make the
cold blue above it visible; dim sugges-
tons of low shrubs with patches of the
last tints of autumn. A shadowy path
leading down the slope to a CLEAN of
water in the right-hand corner, the
turn of brook one would suspect A
leafless tree near it. On the other side
two figures moving away from the
brook and the tree, one form shorter
and lighter than the other, with the out
line of an arm about the waist, the
heads bent toward each other-lovers,
of course! Aye. and thereby hangs the
tale. The knoll on which the house
stands hides the scene in tho valley
from that point, but anyone from the
other side of the brook could plainly
see it ALL | saw it and made the sketch
from memory.
Now let me describe another scene,
not from canvas, but from corner of
my heart where the dust never comes.
A glorious sunset in June, young
man-myself, in fact, for was young
once-walking along country road.
| had walked out from town to my
home in order to enjoy that beauty of
nature which comes but once year in
New England. The green of grass and
trees was still in its spring freshness;
the air, laden with the sweetness of
flowers and fruit blossoms, soft and
balmy; the sky glowing with the light
which fingers after sunset at that season
of the year. As l came to turn in the
road ] saw little fellow leaning
against rail fence, his hat in his hand
and the curls on his forehead damp
with perspiration. stopped in front
of him, and, looking up with sweet,
frank smile, he said, "Ain't it awful
hot, sirp"
'You seem to be very warm said;
shave you been runningP'
30, no, sir; couldn't run with that
Jug" pointing to brown stone jug at
his feet; 'It's mighty heavy and makes
me puff, can tell YOU"
"What's in the jugp" asked, lifting
it from the ground and finding it un-
expectedly heavy.
''Maple strip, sir. / was taking it up
to Farmer Changers to Katie, she likes
it so much; and you know maple sirup' s
the heaviest thing in the world except
lead"
Sand who is Katie, that you should
work so hard for herp"
"Why, Katie Changers my sweetheart
always has been-and promised her
I'd get her some strip way back in
April, but 1 couldn't get enough sap
from our trees to make teacup full, SO
just earned some money helping faith
err in the spring work and went to town
to-day and bought four quarts, that's a
gallon, you know; it came from Yer.
mont, and it's awful good. guess she'll
like it,"
care you fond of Katiep' i asked.
Fond of her! Well should think so
she's my sweetheart, tell you, and al
ways has BEEN"
The boy was about II years old, and
had it not been for the serious expires
sion in his bright young eyes, | should
have laughed at that always" uttered
in that connection. AS it was, l felt 6
suspicious twinge ut my heart tha
might have been caused by envy
don't really know what it was.
"You are devoted knight, my lad, ,
said, "and I'll help you carry the JUG
the rest of the way, if you'll tell me
your name"
'Tom Horton, sir. but guess / car
carry 1t now. I'm all rested, and
want to tell Katie brought it myself.
"All right, Tom, i honor your senti
ment, but if l put my cane through thu
handle you can take one end and thu
other, so you see won't touch the ju.
myself, but in that way can relieve yol
of some of the weight"
think Tom in his heart felt the SO
phistry of my argument without know
ing it, for he consented to the plal
rather reluctantly, although after W
fairly started on our journey he chat
tered on quite cheerfully, and we sool
reached the cottage of Farmer Granger
Tom gave shrill whistle as he drew