Clarksville evening chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn) 1886-1890, 1888-11-06

could have at any time, and so farewell
Year lovin' aunt,
''RoxANNA MATTER"
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. in fact, been work
ing against hope for the last month, with
q cold, despairing feeling Fettling down
about his heart. He was one Of the COM
petitors for a prize, but each day he
passed his brush over tie days work
with an angry vehemence, obliterating
his failures.
II am q gigantic mistake, +" he said tc
himself gloomily. There's nothing left
for me but to go back to the button fac
tory. There's nothing in me. cant
get up the ghost of conception for a
picture. My figures look as if cut out Of
pasteboard, my skies are like Aunt Rox-
Annals bluing, my rocks are pasty.
Heighol could almost wish I'd lived
in those wonderful days of magic and
wizards. If any obliging gentleman in
black should appear now and say, Roy
Mather, you shall have your hearts de-
sire for the paltry consideration Of
Hallool who are you tumhling over2"
A fierce ''sacre' came from the adj
vancing foe, but the next moment it was
changed to greeting. A sallow faced,
dark eyed gentleman in black stopped
suddenly, and then said:
sit is Monsieur Mather, ehf Ahl you
come, | suppose, from your friend-ahl
the poor young man-cut down like q
flower'--
''What do you meant" cried Roy, rec
nizing q fellow student.
''Is it that you ask me? Why,
thought it was with you, Damon, and
what you call the otherS"
''Never mindl What is the matter
with Lang?"
"Oh! he is dying, that is all |"
Roy turned away and walked rapidly.
he had been so occupied with his work,
having 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
desperate, or his friend would have let
him know.
lie made his way up the dim stairway,
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
a candle. Then he called his fr;An1 by
name, but there was no answer.
lie took the light in his hand. A hor-
rible fear was clutching at his heart as
he walked toward the bed, for the moan
ing had ceased. And at the first glance
it looked rs if the shadow that lies in
wait for all of us had indeed crossed that
threshold, and laid n dim hand upon one
aching brow.
"IIe is gone, poor fellowi" thought
Roy, "and no one beside him to hear his
last words or to hold his hand in the SUI
preme moment. Perhaps, though, there
may be some faint pulse of life. If / had
some stimulants''-
He bathed the cold face with water
first, and then looked about for some
thing stronger.
In doing this he saw an easel, and
upon it stretched finished picture, that
even in that faint and dim light glowed
with life and power. There was a tall
headland, pine crowned, draped with
dainty ferns. Above it the misty air
seems like amber, the sky is of melting
gold Below, the sea, with its emerald
light and foam crested waves and fame
opals of light. And 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. She looks
at Roy with fearless, innocent but tender
eyes.
She lives! 1t would hardly seem a
miracle if she stepped forth and touched
his hand. All! this is geniusl He rccog-
rizes it with groan.
And the man whose cunning hand has
done the work is lying there dead 1t is
nothing to him now, that ho would have
won the prize. What are earthly laurels
to him, who sees the amaranth's death
less bloom? What are all the triumphs
or the toll to one on whom new day
dawns III the land where there shall be
no night2
II must take care Of this picture"
sail Roy. ale would have given it to
INC. and it will not Go to let it fall into
the hands Of
He had rolled it uD with this thought,
and hearing the door open turned to face
a v!rago.
$50, some one ut last. And how is it
that you make your way into my house,
and ask DO leave9 The doctor it is who
has forbidden?"
The poor fellow is q friend of mine,
and if you will get 4 little wine, l think
he is in faint"
"Wine2 All! but heart Docs he not
owe me fifty francsS And he was to pay
with his grand priSse. and here he has
escaped-died out Of pure malice to
cheat me- But | will have all-all he
has had the grace to leave. Typhus, too;
that frightens my dodgers. All, am a
lone woman, and have no one to take my
part!''
''Typhusl" cried Roy, looking at the
bed with q fear fer himself selfshly
springing up in his heart. Here. take
this, and will send some wine for him. :"
he offered the woman money, and
then stopped once more over his friend.
There was no pulse.
Thanks; monsieur is a gentleman, {"
a,~CIoi,,,a1 i,a II will = Ill