The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1888-02-16
STORY OF A PICTURE.

Yes" said Bruce Lamoine, II will
tell you the story of the picture, and l
assure you it will repay the listening" "
They. Lamoine and his friend, were
standing before a recently-hung cam
vas. 1t was an .unannounced exhibit,
and had attracted great attention, es-
pecially from those best qualified to
judge.
Though not as competent as
yourself, old fellow, continued Whar-
ton, 81 do not fail to appreciate the
technique, the tendreSse of the handling,
the breadtl and depth of feeling dis
played, the minuteness of detail, the
rare mixing and laying on of color, as
it'were, with brush guided by the
spiritua, rather than the merely physi-
cal, by a refined and gifted human
SOUL
You are enthusiastic"
"Who ould not be with such gem
before his eyes"
So it was. The representation was
of little bend in some tranquil
stream, framed in by hills densely COW
cred with evergreens.
At intervals upon the banks were
ciumps Of trailing willows and dark
green alders.
Floating upon the surface of water
so clear that one could count the peb-
bles beneath, were broad lily pads,
above which rose reedy sedge.
The sky. was mass of drifting
whiriing clouds, with the full moon
struggling through heirragged edges,
and casting down u, weird, uncertain,
CHASTITY light.
Yet these things alone would not
have accounted for the deep interest
excited, and Wharton was about to
give utterance to his Thoughts when
his companion touched his arm and
continued:
"Fhis is no place for what have to
tell. Come home with mel mean to
my-studio-and will tell the story as
| know it."
The studio" not the regulation
one in some high, dismal, out-of-the-
way building, but cosy attic ill pri-
vate dwelling, reached and cigars
lighted, Lamoine resumed:
The painting you have so much
praised was not the result of poetic
fancy or ideal dreaming, but terrible
actuality that. of course, came to an
already skilled artist.
"Witiout doubt" answered Whar-
ton, ''for none other could have felt
to the innermOst core of his heart
what has been SO magically pictured.
But go on" ,.@
For the sake of intelligent un-
derstandlng let me assume his in
dividuality, and speak of the cir
cumstances rs if they had actually oc-
Cured to myself"
"As You please" agreed Wharton
laughingly, for he remembered that
his friend had once labored under the
delusion that he was destined to be-
come great actor.
THAT no one not already an artist
could have executed such picture
you have conceded, and | am firm in
the believe that they, like poets, are
born, not made. Promising this and
that such souls-word and brush
painters-are particularly influenced
by the beauty and goodness of
woman, / proceed. THAT is the one
l represent-in my journeying met
and fell in love-I use the customary
senseless term-with a beautiful girl,
entirely filing my widest imaginings
and longings, artistic and spiritual" :"
Describe her, please"
"The canvas has already done so as
far rs it is possible for brush and tint to
do it; yet it gives but faint idea of
the glory of the hair. fine, soft, and
outshining pure gold; the blue eyes;
the soul that spoke through the car
mine lips"
"And the physical beauty is given
in the picture?"
''Truthfully, not idealised, and next
to matehless."
You say this after seeing all the
famous statues of the world?"
lido, and with my hand upon my
heart. You knowing the intensity of
well understand the warmth of his
wooing. In early summer they met,
and before it had changed to the chill
of autumn theyavere engaged, and, by
some strange decree of fate, upon the
very spot now made familiar to you
by means of the picture"
"You believe in fate, Lamoine?"
Il believe" with one of the peculiar
smiles that cause chill and dread
rather than pleasure, ''in some mys-
terious power that controls human
actions more than is generally be-
lieved. What it is do not undertake
to assert. Wait until l have finished
and then draw your own conclusions.
@''Go on, answered Wharton hoarse-
lv, for the mysterious words and man
ner of his friend impressed him deep
ly.
'.There was no opposition to the en-
eagement-no known reason why
they should not be marricd-and life
with them flowed on as smoothly as
the waters OF the little stream"
"a placid existence. indeed"
Yes, and yet to be broken by a ter.
rible storm. No, not as you imagine;
but BY sickness. Perchauce there was
no one to blame but myself. | AN
speaking. you will remember, as if the
Interested party. Such Il delicate and
highly sensitive organization as that
of Ethel Scott-her name? yes-could
not resist what hardy manhood could
Wandering in the night air and by the
water resulted in fever, in phrenites
'And you-the lover, | mean-must
have suffered beyond the power of de
scription," remarked his friend in low
and sympathetic tones.
NO; and here commences the
strange and mysterious, though strict
ly true. events that give the story it,
! deepest interest.
| Wharton shifted in his seat uneasily
rested his arm upon Il table. his head
/ upon his hand, aud shaded his eyes a
! his friend continued:
Business called the lover of Ethe
to the distant city. The evening be
fore his departure they had wandered
late beside the still waters and sa
upon the log shaded by willows yoI
may have noticed at the right of th'
picture.
"Yes; a -semi-dark, damp place
even in the sunlight" was the almos
shiyering comment.
"Just as you describe it; but ther'
IL