St. Landry democrat. (Opelousas, La.) 1878-1894, 1888-04-14

showed me some fancy tides which
were just lovely. She had worked in
some deel-heads which were as natural
as life
"Well, I'm sorry that I haven't done
BETTER" | said as | pretended 10 wipe
away tear.
''Oh, you needn't cry over it. Mrs.
Bowser," he replied. ':All people
can't be alike, you know. Mrs. John
son happened to be gifted, while you
are not. You are not to blame for it.
I suppose there are some men in this
world smarter than | am"
"Do you really?"
well ahem-well, / was using
that in an illustrative sense, you know!
Don't feel bad. Mrs. Bowser. There
are some good points about you, even
If you are not smart
In about week was ready for him.
| couldn't hope to "elocute" success
fully in that brief time, but hunted
around and found where Mrs. Jones
got the loan of the patterns for her
tides. I bought the originals out and
then I found that all her paintings
were copies from paintings in an art
lists studio, l hired three of the finest
for week, and one evening when Mr..
Bowser came home to tea 1 said to him
''Mr. Bowser, l know l am thick
headed and wear No. 5 shoes, and I
don't blame you for sometimes getting
discouraged with me-
What's up nowP" he asked, as he
looked around.
"But, nevertheless, am not hope
less case' continued. II have two or
three tides and two or three paintin rs
| want to show you. 1t has been a
secret with me for many months, but l
know you'll forgive me for not giving
you hint
"Mrs. Bowser. have you gone mad
and-and-''
'.I'm afraid I'm not much of an art
list, but good critics have been pleased
to comment very favorably upon my
work. Come into the parlor, Mr..
Bowser."
''If you've gone and made fool of
yourself don't expect any praise from
me! What do you call those?'
Tides, my dear"
"Horse blankets, you mean! And
you've spoiled 'em at that! So that
the way you've wasted your time and
money, is it?"
'.Aren't they as nice as those you
saw at Mrs. johnson So"
"Humph! Is there any comparison
between rose and Hubbard squashp'
sWell, what about my paintings?"
Paintings! Oh, yes. You furnished
an old sheet, suppose, and hired a
house-painter to lay on the colors.
How much did he charge per day?"
What is wrong with those paint
ings, Mr.. Bowser? Give me your crit
icism of this ocean scene"
.'Is that what you call it? Well, who
ever saw water of that color? And
look at those clouds! Why, nobody can
say whether they are clouds or table,
cloths! Mrs. Bowser, I'm sorry foryou !"
"Any thing wrong with that land
scapeP"
lis there any thing right? The artist
who called that a landscape, and who
took your money for learning you to
paint it ought to be in State prison''
'Isn't it as good as Mrs. Johnson's 81"
.Isn't it2 Mrs. Bowser, am | blind
in both eyesP"
Il hope not.
''Do l live in cave, and do the owls
boot about my ears?'
'tOf course not.
ssThen don't take me for either a
blind man or greenhorn. These
paintings of Mrs. Johnson's are paint
ings. You see the real artist in every
touch. These are simply daubs, and
I doubt if you could get tea store
man to give them away with a pound
of hayseed. No, Mrs. Bowser, don't
want to hurt your feelings, but some
one has imposed on your credulity.
After supper / will take those bur-
lesques down and carry EN- out behind
the pig-pen.
After supper told him the true facts
in the case. He would not believe me
until he had paid another visit to john
son s, and until he had the word of the
artist, and then he gave me one drawn
out look, which seemed to be composed
of bullets, bombshells and dynamite,
and went over and kissed the baby and
said:
you poor little thug, how my heart
does bleed for you! What dreadful
thing it is to be motherless. Detroit
Free Press.
Uninflammable Wood.