Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1888-12-12

with it, and 1 don't know as twill be
to you, aud so told him. He spoke
quite feelin' about you, an said if the
paintin' didn't turn out a good job,
there was the place as bookkeeper in
his button factory as you could have at
any time, and so farewell. Your lovin'
aunt, ROXANNA MATHER.'
Roy had crushed this letter IN his
hand, and walked on with the feeling
that he had nothing more to hope or
expect in this world. He had, ia fact.
been working against hope for the last
month, with a cold, despalring feeling
settling down upon his heart. He was
one of the competitors for a prize. but
each day he passed his brush over the
days work with an angry vehemence,
obliterating his failures.
Il am a gigantic mistake he said to
himself gloomily. There's nothing left
for me but to go back to the button
factory. There's nothing in me. L
can't get up the ghost of a conception
for picture. My figures look as if cut
out of pasteboard, my skies are like
Aunt Roxanna's bluIng, my rocks are
pasty. Heighol l could almost wish
I'D lived in those wonderful days OF
magic and wizards. Ii any obilging
gentleman IN black should appear now
and say, Roy Mather, you shall have
your hearts desire for the paltry con-
sideration Of Halloo, who are you
tumbling over?"
y fierce 'sacre' came from the ad-
vancIng foe, but the next moment It
was changed to a greeting. a sallOw
faced, dark eyed gentleman in black
stopped suddenly, and then said:
1t is Monsieur Mather, eh? Ali
you come, suppose, from your friend
-ahl the poor young man-cut down
like a flower-'
What do you mean?' cried Roy, rec
ognIzing fellow student.
is it that you ask me? Why,
thought it was with you, Damon, and
what you call the other?'
Never mindl What is the matter
with Lang?'
Obi he is dying; that IS amp
Roy turned away and walked rapidly.
! He had been so occupied with his
work, having a studio of his own now,
that he had hardly thought of Lang for
three weeks, and his conscience smote
/ him.
But certainly Mather could not be 50
/ him know.
He made his way up the dim stair
way, meeting no one. When he pushed
| open the door OF Lang's room there
was no light or any sound save half
| smothered moan from the bed.
He found match after awhile and
! lit candle. Then he called his friend
| by name but there WAS no answer.
He took the light in his hand. a
horrible fear was clutching at his throat
as he walked toward the bed; for the
moaning had ceased. And at the first
/ glance It looked as il the shadow that
/ lies in wait for all of US had indeed
crossed that threshold, and laid a dim
hand upon one aching brow.
He is zone, poor fellowP thought
Roy, and no one beside him to hear
his last words or to hold his hand In
the supreme moment. Perhaps, though,
there may be some faint pulse of life.
II had some stimuiants--'
lie bathed the cold face with water
first, and then looked about for some.
thing stronger.
In doing this he saw an easel, and
upon stretched finished picture,
that even In that faint and dim light
glowed with life and power. There
was 4 tall headland, pine crowned
draped with dainty ferns. Above il
the misty air seems like amber, the sky
Is or melting gold. Below, the sea
with its emerald light and foam crested
waves and flame opals OF light AnC
where the reeds seem to thrill with the
wind stands one like lily queen,
a miracle of snow and gold.
1t Is Miranda on her island. Sh,
looks at Roy with fearless, but innocen
tender eyes.
She livesI 1t would hardly seem /:
miracle II she stepped forth and touched
his hand. Ahl this is genius H'
recognizes 1t with groan.
And the man whose cunning hant
has done the work IS lying there dead
Ii Is nothing to HIM now, that he woulC
have won the prize. What are earthly
laurels to him. who sees the amaranth'
deathless bloom? What are all tn
triumphs or the toll to one on whom
shall be no night?
Il must take care OF this picture
said Roy. He would have given it {,
me, and it will not do to let it fall Int
the hands Of"
He had rolled it up with this thought
and hearing the door open turned t,
face virago.
SO, some one at last. And how is i
that you make your way into m
house, and ask no leave? The docto
it is who has forbidden?'
The poor fellow is a friend of mine
and if you will get little wine, thin
he Is in a faint
~ Il
owe me fifty francs2 And he was Z
!. pay with his grand prize, and here u
has eScaped-died out of pure malice
TO cheat me. But 1 will have all-al
he has had the grace TO leave. Typhus
} too; that frightens my dodgers. All,
am lone woman, and have no one +
; take my partl'
'Typhusl' cried Roy, looking at tn
| bed with a fear for himself selfshl
springing up in his heart. Here, tax
this, and l will send some wine 70
him.
He offered the woman money, an
! then stopped once more over his friend
: There was no pulse.
Thanks; monsieur is a gentleman,
t exclaimed the woman. Il will do a
J for this friend; but he will not drin
T the wlnel Oh, mol the poor youth la
! | entered the habitatIons of the blesi
( and needs not the wine any more now
e Monsieur must think of his safety; tn
I fever is very bad
4 Roy did think of his own safety. II
could do no more, and why should b
risk his lIfep He went down the stat
i way once more, and with the pIctuI
: under his arm. Lang had left enoug
{ in his room TO pay funeral expense:
= and that was all that renamed to
o DONE There was no reason why Re
o should go there again. He convince
T himself of that fact on his way hom
e yet he could not nd himself of an III
: comfortable feeling or guilt.
{ Poor Lang he said, half enviousll
i there was no mistake about him. Il
Il had the hidden fire. II his mantel coul
n only have fallen on me. If / coul
II only win this prize, the money woul
u keep me a year. And who know
s what another years work would do Fl
| he 81 fa~a r.